


I'm Not The Only One...

by Punk_in_Docs



Series: Along Came Benedict: The Ben and Libby Saga... [13]
Category: Benedict Cumberbatch - Fandom, British Actor RPF
Genre: Angst, Arguments, Broken Engagement, Comfort Sex, DUN-DUN-DUN!!!!, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Engagement, F/M, Fall outs, Fights, Friend Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Seperation, Smut- But Not With Who We Expect.....(?!?)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-24
Updated: 2015-02-10
Packaged: 2018-02-26 19:39:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 48,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2663936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Punk_in_Docs/pseuds/Punk_in_Docs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Libby Stood, Stock still. Tears gathering like rain clouds across her blue eyes. Her lungs suddenly felt redundant, and all she wanted to do was crumple into a deflated sack of human skin like burning paper. But she couldn't. She had to stand there and let Benedict's hurtful words wash over her. </p><p>She tried so hard to find a shred of her best friend stood in the stranger that was snarling venomous words at her.</p><p>But she couldn't. Not at all. Not even a miniscule hint. and that, was the single most saddest thing of all. She walked forwards and thrust her wedding gift into Ben's hands.</p><p>"You wont see me at the wedding." She steeled with tears sliding down her cheeks.</p><p>"....Or ever again for that matter."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ladies who Lunch, Jimmy Choos and Witchcraft...

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of my 'Flashback' series, don't worry, you're not going insane, this is my look back at the angsty times between Ben and Libby....

       

 

(The Charming place where our ladies lunch...)

 

 

 

Libby smiled and quickly twisted sideways out of the dusky spring heat of london to breeze through the door of the upper class, uber cool cosmopolitan restaurant, letting the patrons who held the door open for her slip out by her. It was saved from the stuffy summer exosphere by a cool crisp air conditioned place that was both moody and trendy. To be seen in, and to dine at. Libby paused for a moment to rub her lips together to roll her vampy scarlet lipstick around`more evenly.

She scanned around the restaurant looking for the familiar brunette, who had promised to meet her here at quarter to twelve for a late brunch-lunch style affair. She was kitted out in one of Dior’s finest, a short strapless cream dress with a sailor fold down at the front, a nude trench coat from max mara and nude suede Jimmy choo heels. Just as a poshly attired waiter finished leaning over to serve a middle aged woman her salmon mousse, him clearing the way so that she caught a glimpse of ethereal coloured eyes searching the menu in front of them. Before flitting up and locating her stood in the foyer. And a glad and attractive smile stretched their face as they waved her over. She beamed back and weaved her way through the chrome tables with lavender pots placed on each one, dodging waiters and listening to the atmospheric jazz that every restaurant such as this one seemed to play for background noise. To go along with the incessant and never ending chatter that inhabited the air of the restaurant in a manner alike that of flickering butterflies. The warmed air that smelt invitingly like three star food, and the fresh flowers they placed in small vases on each table. She tucked her vintage westwood newspaper plastered clutch bag under her arm and swerved to one side, smiling sweetly at a well dressed waiter, clad in formal black and white work uniform with a lavender tie. Who smiled gratefully as he wheedled two plates of great smelling lagoustine pepper creamed pasta under her nose, wetting her appetite and her tongue. She let him pass before she finally reached the table outside in the warm air of the petite courtyard where her lunch date was sat waiting.

“Hello, finally got here! London traffic, so sorry I’m late…”

Libby apologised, leaning in to give Rachel a kiss on the cheek, which the other woman returned with a kind gentle smile, Libby caught an elegant and strong whiff of versace clinging to rachels perfectly curled dark brown hair.

“Oh it’s fine, please, I was early if anything…” Rachel waved off with her dreamy snowy white smile.

Both women adjusted themselves onto their seats. Rachel onto a beige bench adorned with velvet grey, plum and lavender pillows, and Libby, onto a clear perspex chair made to look vintage with a beaded grey cradle of a seat cushion on the plastic. She shrugged off her coat and placed her clutch down on the empty seat next to her. Rachel adored the redheads clothes with admiration as she could never wear something like that.

Rachel was dressed in a immaculate peacock blue shift dress which showed off her toned pale arms and a body that had seen the inside of a gym many times. She had her hair arranged faultlessly in thick ringlets of brown curls, and huge amber gemstone earrings in her earlobes that sparkled peach light around the pale snowy white skin of her cheeks near her lobes. Libby didn’t catch a peek at her shoes, but she was just willing to bet that they were some grand designer pair that cost more than her house. Rachel had a thing for expensive garments…

“Oh, I bet when Dior need vintage dresses, they come to you..” Rachel flattered.

Libby smiled, smoothing a hand down over the cream twisted front of the dress.

“Oh please, I can bet within the hour I will have spilt something or other down the front of it. I wish I was one of those remarkable women who could wear white and not spill down it. That, and wear a short dress with bare legs and no nude tights underneath it. Its unheard of. I call witchcraft on women that do.”

Libby said cheekily as she opened her menu. Already eyeing up the lobster pot pie and the fennel salad.

Rachel laughed. Libby was such a delight. She had only known her for five or so weeks, and they had instantly clicked over their love of fashion, vintage and interior design. And it was impossible not to love the woman, she was bubbly, full of laughter, both to cause and to share. Her figure was the envy of every girl who didn’t want to be skinny, and her personality was flawless, she was a kind friend, warm hearted, and speaking of which, gold was a grand understatement as to what her heart was made out of. Hers was made of rare lovable things that were undefinable. She truly was a one of a kind woman. It was almost hard not to be envious… if she wasn’t so loved by Benedict.

Ben always talked about her… _that_ was the thing. Always mentioning his friends of course, Tom and JJ, James and Martin, Adam and Mark. But Libby…. Libby featured more heavily and prominantly in any of his anecdotes than anyone. But as soon as Rachel met her, she understood why. It was impossible not to be drawn in by her, yet, a niggling voice at the back of her head told her that maybe there was another reason underpinning his adoration of his female friend…

…..maybe….. _just maybe._

“So. Hows things going with Ben?”

Libby asked slyly after they had ordered their food. Sipping shyly on her cocktail of Peach and Raspberry cordial with Prosecco. Rachel sipped daintily from her own glass, a delicious and unusual blend of Champagne and Guava Juice. In traditional manner of Ladies Lunching, they had both ordered a salad and a main dish to follow it. Rachel had gone for the light balsamic low calorie, non dairy, low fat, low _everything_ , french dressing garden salad with a light salmon mousse after, and Libby had waved goodbye to the fennel salad, and went instead for basil, vinegar and tomato, with a hankering for a huge slab of meat, therefore ordering the chilli and Italian sausage burger with garlic butter a side of skinny herb fries, ~~telling~~ _lying_  to herself that the diet would start next week.

“I can’t believe it took you til drinks to bring it up…” Rachel told off cheekily.

Libby smiled to herself. Outwardly-

“You cannot avoid the question. And of course, we stick to the steadfast promise of ladies in confidence…” Libby encouraged.

“It’s fine.” Rachel finally told with a tiny smile, if but to throw an answer her way.

That was it.

No following Synonyms. Or verbs. No exclaimatives.

Fine

_Fine...._

_Fine?!_

That seemed such a mundane word to Libby, especially when it involved a relationship with **_the_** _Benedict Cumberbatch_ , -for crying out loud…

“I feel like your holding out on me Rachel…” Libby urged, making Rachel laugh slightly.

“No. no holding out. I promise. Its just…. _Average_ …” Rachel said.

Libby opened her mouth to fight the woman on her point, brows drawn in confusion, but, as if she didn’t have enough reasons to hate salad already, at that precise moment, their starters arrived, so they now had something to focus on other than Rachel’s unispiring synonyms regarding hers and Ben's blossoming relationship.

So, naturally the women segwayed onto other topics. The new spring collection of course, Armani, the subject of Ben’s hair came up, followed closely by book reviews, music discussions, concerts, then came film recommendations, along with the problematic arguments surrounding whether or not perms were making a comeback, then onto University, braces, blue eyeliner, before springing back to investigate Tom Hiddleston’s legs, and the long history of Libby’s past actor boyfriends, and landing them back in the territory of discussing famous celebrities asses (of whom out of British Actors they found attractive) and before they knew it, their mains had come and gone as the light shifted into that of late afternoon.

“Johnathan Rhys Myers…I’d give him an 8.5”

Libby cooed adoringly, now on her third glass of the peach and raspberry concoction, which only got tastier with every glass she drank.

“mmmnn, Jude Law?…”

Rachel pointed out, draining the last dreggs of her cocktail. Now onto mojitos.

“Oh, _ding, ding , ding_. 9.9 If you please..” Libby laughed. “Have to deduct one though. I can’t escape the nanny problem, he’s tainted to me now…”

Libby smiled.

Rachel smiled in a way that said she agreed.

“Heath Ledger?…”

Libby gushed.

“Oh, 10,000 out of 10,000!” She exclaimed.

Both women peeled off into slight bouts of intoxicated laughter.

“Ok, last one, Hugh Jackman..” Rachel smiled.

Both women moaned appreciatively. Staring off into the far distance and fiddling with their wine glasses while they fantasised.

“There’s something about Hugh…” Libby smiled dreamily. “I think it’s the accent…” She concluded, sipping more drink.

“I think it’s the bloody fine ass…” Rachel speculated.

“And all this booze…” Libby beamed.

“And lets not forget the muscles…” Rachel added.

Libby groaned.

“Ohh, Mother may I..” She moaned sexily in wanting, as Rachel laughed.

That was before Rachel took a cursory glance to her watch.

“Oh good lord is that the time? I better go home and change. I’ve got a gym session with my personal trainer, get to work on burning off that salad and mousse…” Rachel exclaimed, standing and pulling on her…

Libby smiled to herself at the irony.

One, at the fact that Rachel had only eaten some salad leaves with, basically, some oil drizzled onto it. And some lightly whisked fish, with cream and air. So why did that instantly require a gym session?...

And Two, at the fact that Rachel pulled on her pristine, wrinkle free white coat that she hadn’t spilled a thing down. The fact it looked as untouched as freshly fallen snow crossed Libby’s mind. And as her dress was knee length, she saw in the shimmer of the late afternoon fiery shades of sun as they caught Rachel’s legs, that she wasn’t wearing tights underneath it either. And she looked glorious.

She ignored the way her brain spat out ‘ _WITCHCRAFT_!’ at seeing that. Making her smile lightly.

Libby waved Rachel off as she reached for her purse to leave cash for her meal. Laying her hand on her soft skinned palm adorned with many fine, expensive golden accessory rings. Libby shook her head to drive her point home as Rachel tried to protest.

“My treat.” Libby insisted.

Rachel sighed.

“You’re too good to be true.”

Rachel complimented, but to Libby’s ears that compliment sounded foreign. It sounded insincere, almost akin to a dig..

It sounded more bad than good to her….

“Next ones on me. It was lovely catching up, Libs.” Rachel smiled.

The two women embraced, before they pulled away and Libby sat back down to finish her drink.

But before Rachel sauntered away, looking all tall and slim and utterly perfect. She turned back.

“You seemed shocked…” She said suddenly, with a gentle inquisative smile.

Libby turned and blinked. It was such an elegant move of hers, Rachel had noticed. It was like Audrey Hepburns classic elegant fluttering of eyelashes. A blink that said so much.

“I was just curious. I mean, Average? Anything surrounding Benedict is never average. Not even the air, and definitely not the company. I was just wondering…”

Libby explained, careful not to tread on any toes.

Rachel smiled.

“Truthfully…” She began. Tilting her head to one side and examining her shoes.

Libby looked down, and yes. Sure enough. Her aforethought was right. Embellished Manolo Blahniks adorned her finely manicured feet.

“He’s wonderful. But…”

Libby wasn’t aware before that three tiny little letters could cause such a great lump to form in her throat. But she stood to be corrected, because they did.

“… He’s not my kind of wonderful. He’s nothing special to me. He’s not my one.” She said. Shrugging. Shrugging like there was nothing she could do.

To Libby every word was like a needle. Soft like silk were her words, but then why did she feel like they had bruised her…

She blinked again. wetting her lips.

Rachel looked at her watch again.

“Anyway, must dash! Or I’ll be late for Paolo. Goodbye Libs, Another lunch soon darling? Yes?” She asked.

All Libby could do was nod and plaster on a smile. Watching as Rachel turned away before the smile fell from her lips like dry leaves floated away from trees in the Autumn.

She turned around and let out a breath she wasn’t aware she had been holding. Slumping down into the chair, feeling a little deflated, and feeling the first peeps of niggling unease worm away at her stomach like maggots would feed on rotting meat.

She gabbed her flute of drink and downed the contents in one huge gulp. Letting the prosecco sting and burn her throat, hoping the bubbles would wash away the odd ebb of guilt she now found residing in her gut.

She signalled to the waiter for the bill. Reaching for her purse with a dry mouth.

She had just knowingly entered a hell of her own creation…

 

And there was no telling when she would be able to leave it….

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

By the way, just a little footnote, to really get you in the atmosphere for this Chapter to drive home the angsty upset-ness of it, take a listen to Jennifer Lopez's "You belong to me" and "I'm so glad" (Oh the irony) as you listen, I wrote this to those songs, and I just imagine it coincides perfectly with the scene... just a cheeky thought...

\- Author

x

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Beers, Regret, and Shoddy Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> T-Hiddy is a sympathetic ear.... and an utter darling... (When is he not?)

 

 

 

Try as she might, Libby spent the rest of the day trying to shake off Rachel's words. It was like trying to run through water, she felt as if her feet were dragging and she wasn’t getting anywhere with it. She felt like a huge two tonne raincloud was starting to form and hover over her head. And all the while Rachel’s prim voice repeated those terrible words in her head like a broken record.

_“He’s not my kind of wonderful… He’s not my one….”_

Over and over, and over again. Like a pain inflicting audio tape set on loop. After she left the restaurant, she shook off the weighed down lead like feeling that lined her limbs, long enough to decide to traipse herself to the South Kensington underground station, on Old Brompton Road, a stones throw away from the place where they had lunch, she felt like the bustle and fuss of the train and commuters would be a welcome distraction rather than sitting in the cab and letting her thoughts dangerously evolve while they had the time to reflect upon things.

She trudged wearily down the steps, swiped her dusty and barely used oyster card through the ticket barrier and getting straight on the first train on her line to take her home. The train was particularly busy for a Friday lunchtime, which meant she had to stand, grabbing onto the hand rail as the train jerked and jostled and got her home. And, as it turns out, nothing would let her escape the feeling she was trapped under, as she was stood opposite a young couple who, by the looks of things, were very much in love. Kissing one another, holding hands and entwined very closely to each other. To the other commuters sat on the train, it was nothing extraordinary. Average. Even. People were masked behind their papers or ignoring the world and getting lost in a book. But Libby couldn’t ignore it, not even if she tried. She let her eyes drop to the floor, she didn’t want to risk looking like she was gawping at the romantically entwined pair.

Thankfully, her stop came up, and she gladly exited the train quickly. Out onto Sloane Square tube station, beginning the long walk home to Hobury Street, Hampton Court Place where her home was. London in spring is one of those wonderful, not to be missed seasons. The air is warm and sunny, filling the city with an eternal sense of optimism that fades along with the long miserable, chowder grey, drizzly months of winter. Everything seems lighter and happier, perhaps that’s why it didn’t fill Libby with joy like it usually did. Her mood was anything but sunny. She somehow knew she shouldn’t let Rachels words get to her as much as they were. The woman was only five weeks into a relationship with Ben, so maybe she couldn’t quite view him as the definitive ‘One’ quite yet, maybe that was why. Or maybe she was just projecting a portion of her own feelings onto His and Rachel’s relationship. Possibly because If she was the woman waking up next to him in bed every morning, then she would never want anything else, knowing she could never do better than that. Maybe that was why she was taking this situation so to heart…. Could it be she just cared for Ben too much? Well – she knew the answer to that one, she was nearly always mad about him. So it hurt her beyond belief to know that the woman he liked could break his heart… and there was nothing she could do to prevent it.. nothing at all.

That, the worst thing of all, truly hurt her the most.

Stewing over the words as they boiled and raged inside her head, she didn’t even realise her feet had navigated her to her front door without her having to give it so much as an afterthought. She slid her key into the lock and let herself in, wondering what activity she could fine to occupy herself with until the boys were over later for movie night.

Tonight was a classic food/film fest. All three Die Hard's, complete with Pizza and Chinese food, and plenty of chilled ice cold beer to go around. Aswell as a huge tray of home baked brownies in her fridge to please Toms dreadful sweet tooth.

Libby wasn’t too entirely sure what kept her occupied all throughout the day, but before she knew it, she was pulling on her tatty old comfy black leggings and grey wool bedsocks and a dove grey wrap round jumper that was centuries old. And fluffing up her tousled hair, and spritzing on some of her madame perfume.

In attempts to alleviate the lunch from her mind, she did all the menial laboursome tasks around the house that she hated doing. She bleached the bath, defrosted the freezer, organised her pantry cupboard, cleared her computer hard drive of old files, remade her bed linen and indexed her art portfolio and redid her CV, all just for the hell of it. And to keep her mind busy. She had already ordered the food, which would be here in half an hour, and she even had the first DVD disk queued up ready in the player.

She sauntered back downstairs and remembered the fresh flowers she bought earlier when she dashed out to pick up some more beer and milk from her local market. It was a lovely bunch of purple lilacs and fresh white roses, she felt the need for a lot of background noise, reaching for her phone she synced the killers to play ‘Mr Brightside’ so loud through her music system she could feel the base in her stomach as she got to snipping the ends of the stems and placing them in the vase, arranging them one way, and then the other. When she decided she didn’t like it.

Libby found herself loudly humming along with the chorus..

“ _Jealousy, turning saints into the sea, swimming through sick lullabies, choking on your alibis…”_

So engrossed was she in her task, that she didn’t notice that her lanky friend had snuck his way in, until she felt a slender limbed hand sneak onto her hip, to which she jumped three feet into the air at.

She gasped and turned to see Tom raise his eyebrows at her and mumble something that the music drowned out. She snapped into action and turned it down drastically, happy for the distraction of her friend. _Finally._

“Sorry,”

She apologised, seeing Tom relax, rather than wince at the more agreeable pitch of the volume.

He smiled, pretending to be in shell shock.

“HUH?” he asked loudly.

Libby smiled and prodded him in the ribs.

Tom tilted his head. He had known Libby for going on 15 long years now, he could most definitely tell when something about her was off kilter. And there was something in the way her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes as it usually did. He frowned mildly, still keeping the smile on his lips, but his slender fingers wrapped around her wrist and paused her where she was, the other tilting her chin up to him so he could explore her face.

“What’s wrong with you?” He asked.

Libby cursed inwardly, Damn the mans inescapable concern. Why did she ever think she could shy away from Tom’s watchful analytic eyes.

Libby bit her lip slightly, sighing.

“I don’t want to bring down the evening…” She smiled, placing her hands on Tom’s wrists and encouraging him to release her from his hold.

“And fifteen years account for naught? Darling, your face looks as glum as a diabetic in a sweet shop. Tell me… I’m a big boy, I think I can handle it…”

He encouraged, Libby nearly laughed at his analogy, he shrugged off his black leather jacket. He was dressed finely, as always. In a pair of matchstick faded jeans and scuffed old brown leather shoes, that Libby was just willing to bet he would kick off later. And he had on a scarlet red jumper that looked soft and inviting to touch stretched over his lanky torso that was slowly bulking up for some far off distant role. He looked great, and as he placed his jacket down, Libby caught a very inviting wave of his cologne, Jack Wills Cavalry Twill. She knew, because she bought it for him for his birthday, along with a pair of Shakespeare inscribed socks.

Libby tucked an unruly stray coil of red hair back behind her ear.

“Rachel told me, some things… at lunch today…”

Libby explained in a mouse like voice. And anyone who knew the redhead knew that she rarely deserved the analogy of a mouse. A Lioness, yes. But never a mouse.

“I see…” Tom said. Rolling the thought around in his head.

“Bad things?” he asked.

Libby let her eyes slide shut as Rachel’s voice drifted back into her head once again.

_“He’s nothing special to me…”_

“Yeah. You could call it that…”

She uttered quietly. Going to the fridge, reaching in for two beers and pulling them out to snap the tops off violently with a bottle opener. Handing Tom one.

She placed hers down on the counter top after taking a long swig.

“What did she say, Libs?” Tom asked gently. Cradling the beer in his gangling grip.

Libby was silent for a few very long seconds, before she relayed Rachel’s hurtful words to him, finding they hurt her too. She watched closely as Tom’s face fell into an upset frown, as he tried to make sense of it all.

“She said that? Directly to you? Over lunch..” Tom asked.

“Well. Not exactly over lunch, she sort of, briefly eluded to it over her shoulder as she skipped off out the door.” Libby said, swigging more cold beer.

He shook his head.

“How elegant of her..” He sarcced.

Libby sighed again.

“Anyway. Look. Can we just try to forget it? Cause Ben’s gonna be here soon, and I really don’t want to have to bring it up to him…” She mumbled, moving round to cross the the lounge.

“Libby, she trapped you with that information…” Tom added as she moved past him.

She opened her arms in a shrug.

“I know, and I’ve been trying to escape from it all day, but what can I do? Make her love him? make her see that she's in a relationship with, what is possibly one of the best men in the world?”

Libby burst out without much thought.

She turned back to see Tom looking sullen.

“Well, you have to act on it somehow.” He suggested.

Libby, glumly, knew that he was right.

She opened her mouth to make another point. Before they both heard footsteps come up her front path.

“let’s leave it for now? Shall we?” Libby requested as Ben got to the door letting himself in.

“Of course darling.” Was Tom’s quiet, but thoughtful response.

That was before they both snapped on fake smiles to welcome their friend. Now, with the burden of Rachel’s words weighing down two minds, instead of just one.

 

 


	3. Toxicity, Carelessness, and Woe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> read on, read on, it gets so much more interesting... I promise you.
> 
> Our plot doth thicken....

 

 

“Really? Come on, you cannot be serious…” Ben drawled.

“Alan Rickman?” Tom asked, just to be sure.

“I’m sorry, but look. When he was young, he was a hot fox, back in his day…” Libby argued.

Ben and Tom both looked back at the TV screen to see said, ‘fox’.

“I still don’t see it…” Ben explained after a minute.

Tom shook his head, side to side showing that he agreed.

Libby smiled. Raising her cup of earl grey to her lips, having dispensed with the beer earlier on in the evening, leaving it to the boys. She opted instead for her favoured cup of tea to drink in the evening, with milk and one sugar. Ben peered over as she picked idly at a slice of cooling pepperoni pizza as he shovelled more noodles in his mouth.

Something was _definitely_ up, usually she would be diving headfirst into the food, and nattering nonstop throughout the film so they had a hard time hearing it. But tonight, she was silent. Still. She was fiddling with the ties of her wrap round jumper. Or flitting off to the kitchen to make tea. And whenever he caught her eye, she smiled fleetingly before her gaze averted elsewhere. Back to the TV screen, or across to Tom. _Anywhere_ but him… and she had said barely three words to him all evening… it was _odd_

They were halfway through the film, Pizza and chinese food almost gone, when Tom glanced over at Libby during an unusual silence, she looked at him, and he could see all her discomfort and the longing to unburden herself from the secret. He gave her an indiscreet nudge with his elbow into her ribs. She turned her head to see him make an inconspicuous face at her, mouthing a silent

“You ok?”

“Yes”

She mouthed back as a meagre, and noiseless response.

Tom turned away, but he didn’t look convinced…

All three continued until before they knew it, they had made it through another two films. More idle chatter shared between the three of them. The brownie was retrieved from the fridge and quickly hovered up by Tom’s insatiable appetite. Ben helped of course, his penchant for sweets coming a close second to the pudding monster appetite of one certain Hiddleston.

No pudding stood a chance against the man... Especially _Libby's_ homemade puddings. 

And if the silent awkwardness couldn’t get any worse, near the end of Die Hard 2, Ben’s phone rang.

Libby bit her lip. This didn’t go unoticed by Tom.

The sweet human being that he was, clapped a hand down softly on Ben’s knee before he stood up and walked away to answer the call.

“Hurry back, mate. You'll miss the best part otherwise, and you know we have a strict no pausing rule unless its an emergency..”

Tom beamed.

Ben smiled back. Slinking away to answer his call.

And what's worse, Libby knew who it was calling him. Because she had a personalised ringtone. Each one of his friends did. She remembered laughing nonstop at one dinner party many moons ago when Mark Gatiss had enquired into his, only to find out that it was ‘Filthy Gorgeous’ by the Scissor Sisters.

Libby’s was ‘Rock the Casbah’ by the Clash.

Toms was ‘Get Lucky’ By Daft Punk

And Rachel’s was ‘She’s a Lady’ By Tom Jones.

And that was what was echoing out in her hallway at this very second before he answered.

“Hi Love..”

She heard him coo down the receiver to Rachel.

Libby felt on the verge of tears, before reminding herself how mad it was to get wound up by such a simple few harsh words. But then, how could she when her friend sounded so happy and in love? How could she look him in the eyes knowing how the woman he loved truly felt about them?

Such a simple enquiry turned out to be such a large source of raw pain… a veritable Pandora’s box that she just had to tamper with and open, only to have such a huge horrible secret spill out. She began to almost fear she was attracted to the pain, a masochist. She willingly put herself in the middle of something that she should have steered clear of. It was their business. Not hers. But now Rachel had dragged her into it. And she felt like she was slowly being suffocated and she couldn’t stop it, no matter how hard she tried.

She was struggling so much, because she had always, and always would be, an honest person. She wasn’t cut throat frank about things. But honesty was her best policy. She hated being lied to, and telling lies (only had she told the occasional lie about her telephone digits to some sleazy tosspots who wouldn’t leave her alone in bars) and the one thing she absolutely hated, was secrets. Keeping them, or guarding them for other people. Because one little thing, if left concealed and undiscovered, could start to rot and cause so much more hassle than it was worth. And that’s what Rachel’s undisclosed feelings were doing to her. Hurting her more than they were anyone else. What's more, was that Ben was skipping on rainbows and she was as grey as a stormy sky.

She was lost in thoughts until Tom touched the side of her hand gently.

“You look pale. Are you sure you’re alright?”

Libby shook her head for no.

“I hate being the secret keeper.”

She confessed quietly to an intently listening Tom. They could both still hear Ben chatting lovingly to Rachel in the hallway.

“Then tell him. Tell him what Rachel told you…” He urged.

Libby swallowed and twisted her head around the back of her sofa. And the sight of Ben nearly shattered her heart.

He was leant against her doorframe, smiling into the phone. Gods, that smile was the thing that killed her. Because it was a smile that gave away just how exactly in love he was. He was happy. Beyond happy, elated even. And Libby would not be the one who shattered that. She wouldn’t deliver a painful truth to her friend who was finally happy after months of working hard and being alone. She would just have to shoulder all this pain and grit her teeth through it all. His happiness depended on it after all. In that moment she decided she could struggle and suffer for that.

Libby turned back to Tom, whose face was giving away his previous words, almost retracting them.

“Would you?”

Libby asked in a timid voice, mouth set in a grim line.

Tom sighed.

“I’m starting to form a very shoddy opinion of Rachel…”

Tom murmered to her quietly.

“That’s impossible…”

Libby offered, sounding taken aback.

“You’re Tom Hiddleston, you love anyone and everything. You find hope in everyone who has wronged.”

“Some are exempt from my hope-finding..”

“Like who?”

Libby asked, Tom was pleased to see a slight smile grace her lips again.

“Hitler. And, now Rachel..”

He explained as Libby fought not to laugh.

“Did you just compare Ben’s girlfriend to a fascist Nazi Dictator?”

Libby asked in good humour.

“That’s a tad too extreme I suppose… What I meant to imply, was that she just dumped this huge bundle of unhappy words onto you, and is making you suffer in her place. Like a punching bag, or a voodoo doll. She’s offloading her pain onto you, and that is not a classy thing to do. _At all!_ Not to my Little Red, who couldn’t say boo to a goose, and who definitely wouldn’t put such misery like that on someone else…”

As he spoke he reached over and gave her a one armed hug.

Libby smiled, accepting his cuddle as he pressed a kiss to her temple. Soothing her gently.

“Am I too weak?” Libby asked him.

Tom tilted his head so his angular cheekbone rested onto her scented red hair.

“No, my darling. No. Your not.” He smiled. Truth lining his words.

“Your just full of goodness. And in this corrupted world, that’s a very great and rare thing.” He answered.

“It’s beginning to sound like a Samaritans phone line in here…” Libby teased.

“Ahhhhhh.” Tom exclaimed.

“Theres that wit I’ve been sorely missing tonight…” He beamed.

Libby smiled.

At this point, Ben shuffled back into the room.

“Goodbye, yeah. Yeah, I’ll be home in a couple of hours, don’t wait up for me love. Night…. Yeah. I love you too. Bye.”

He sat back down as he hung up. Reaching for his beer, seeing Libby and Tom folded onto one another.

“How’s Rachel?”

Libby asked in a small voice. Tom squeezed her close. A little supporting reward to bolster her courage and bravery.

“She’s fine.” Ben smiled, happy that she was finally engaging him in conversation after an evening of odd behaviour.

“She told me to tell you she really enjoyed lunch today. And whether or not she could have another one with you next week?” Ben asked.

Libby swallowed.

“Of course.” Libby smiled.

“Great. I’ll get her to text you.” Ben insisted.

Libby nodded with a ghost of an untrue smile on her face.

Ben dismissed her with a glad smile, swigging more beer and turning back to see John Mclaine plowing through a field on a snowmobile.

Tom then leaned to her and whispered a praise into her ear out of Ben’s auditory capacity.

“ _Hang in there Little Red…_ ” He smiled.

They watched the rest of the films in peace.

 

_

 

 

Just as the credits for Die Hard 3 began to roll. Libby lifted her arm with a groan and switched the telly off. As the telly faded to black. Her two sofa crashers groaned into life. Tom stood and rolled his shoulders, head fuzzy from one too many beers, body throbbing with tiredness. He yawned through his words as he crossed to the kitchen, fetching his jacket and shoes.

“I better make a move. I have a gym session at nine.” He explained. Toeing on his worn shoes and shucking on his leather jacket.

Libby groaned and stood, seeing that Ben was drowning the last few dreggs of his beer still sat on the sofa, she moaned crossing to Tom and clasping to his chest in a goodbye hug.

He smiled holding the petite, curvy redhead in his arms. Inhaling her scent and feeling the weight of his friend against him. Wishing he could help to alleviate her pain.

Alas, he could not. They both knew that. So all he could say was.

“See you soon Libs.” As he crossed to the door.

“Night Ben..” He called. Seeing his friend shoot him a wave and a fond farewell.

He dissapeared out the door, and across the courtyard, But not before giving Libby a friendly encouraging look to make sure she was ok. Along with a cursory wink that made her smile. 

Libby let out a breath, crossing back to the lounge, gathering up a couple of stray plates, and takeaway cartons, taking them back into the kitchen. Ben bringing in a few aswell, wondering why she was back to being odd with him again.

She was also silent as she placed the dishes in the dishwasher, threw away the dirty food boxes, and proceeded to wipe down her kitchen surfaces.

And she was avoiding eye contact as if he were medusa, and one glance from his eyes would turn her to stone.

Ben paused, halfway through pulling on his jacket and wishing her a goodnight, before slipping out the door. Hoping a night of sleep would help rid her of whatever funk she had worked herself into...

Then, he suddenly had a burst of random inquisitive anger. Where the hell was this silent treatment coming from? Had he done something to deserve it without knowing?

He slammed her front door shut, recalculating his exit, seeing her straighten up and give him those wide worried blue eyes as he stalked across from the foyer into her kitchen.

“Ok. I am sorry. But I call bullshit on this. What the **_hell_** is up with you?” He asked, more angry sounding than he felt.

She blinked. That little blink she did that he adored. That little flutter of eyelashes that was both infuriating and attractive to him when he was in such a mood as this. Her pretty pink lips parted as she frowned mildly.

“What?” She croaked.

“Yes. **Exactly**. _You._ **_What_** _Is_ up with _you_ tonight? You practically put your back out rather than make eye contact with me, you barely speak save for _‘pass me the chow mein’_ and to top it all, your giving me the silent treatment, and its infuriating because I’m trying to pinpoint exactly what it Is I’ve done to make you so mad at me? Please, tell me, I beg you. I’m not a mind reader, I can’t guess, can I?”

As he spoke, he saw her eyes downcast to the floor, looking sheepish and guilty.

“Ben, it’s….not you.” She sighed.

“Then _what is it_? Just tell me? This distance is driving me nuts… your my best friend, Libs. Just. Say it.” He pleaded.

She opened her mouth and stared at him, he could see tears gathering in her eyes.

“Libs..”

Ben whined in a desperate plea, she was close to tears? What was wrong? It was starting to worry him now.

“Rachel.”

She breathed out, pausing after she spoke, trying to summon the words.

“Yes. Rachel…”

Ben urged, looking at her with seriousness on his face.

She swallowed.

“She, said some things to me today at lunch…”

“Ok..” He absorbed the words.

“What kind of things?” He probed gently, articulating every word.

“We were discussing you and her. After I asked how it was going, and she answered with, _Average…_ ” she winced, looking up to calculate his response.

His face gave away very little. He was stoic.

It was a face that clearly thought that his and Rachels relationship was more than just, _Average_. As she so put it.

“And then she went on to say that. You weren’t the one for her… and you weren’t her something special.”

Now it was Ben’s turn to be silent.

Libby stared at him with a hurt face, and sad bambi- like eyes.

She wasn’t sure what to expect from him as a response. Anger? Sadness? Or would he just rush of home to Rachel? She really didn’t know.

But she _definitely_ didn’t expect the words that he spoke softly after a long pause…

“Maybe, she. Meant something else…” He said gently.

Libby frowned.

“Ben… She was pretty adamant..” Libby muscled in. trying to drive her point home.

“You don’t know she meant, anything like that. I mean, she could’ve been referring to, our living situation, or-or…”

Libby was gobsmacked. Her always level headed friend was trying to _justify_ those hurtful remarks?

“Ben..” She whispered, in shock.

“ ** _Look_**.” He burst out suddenly.

“You _don’t know_ what me and Rachel have, _it’s different_ , it’s _our_ relationship. _Not yours_. **_Ours_**. And what goes on inside it is strictly **_our_** business…”

“I agree, but-“ she tried to interject.

“Oh, you agree? Yet here you are, _worming_ your way in with your opinionated superiority…” Ben snapped.

She blinked at him again.

He took a deep breath to calm down, shutting his eyes for a second.

“Ok. Look. I’m sorry I snapped. But, you have to understand that Rachel is very stressed out right now, with work. So she probably let slip of something she didn’t mean. Or wasn’t thinking very clearly about. That’s all.” He explained.

 _Of course_. Libby sarrced to herself inwardly.

 _Because someone would just ‘accidentally’ let slip an opinion that they make a point of turning back around and approaching you with as they’re walking out of a restaurant._ She thought.

“Anyway. Let’s just forget it, shall we? I’m knackered and I could really do with getting home. Rachel might be waiting up. So, I’ll See you on Sunday for brunch? At Harvey's?”

He asked, crossing to her and kissing her on the cheek before he made a move to leave.

He had one hand on her shoulder, those hopeful mesmerising oasis coloured eyes staring into hers and awaiting an answer.

 

She wanted to scream. To shout. To tell him how honest Rachel's words were. How he was being an idiot for brushing them off, and that something might be seriously wrong, and how the woman he was mad about was having doubts… _yet._

 

Yet….

 

Yet, All she could do was, _nod_.

 

He smiled and gave her another peck on the cheek. Moving across to the door and waving back to her as he slipped out into the warmed night air.

It was then Libby fought against all of her better urges and crossed to the bookshelf in the lounge, reaching to the top corner of the bookshelf behind her verbose copy of dostoyevsky. She reached for the two small things and crossed back to her kitchen. Throwing open the garden door and indulging a filthy old habit that she’s kicked many years ago. An ugly metaphor given _her_ past health history.

But she stood puffing away a marlboro light, her secret stash that had been there for months, exhaling deep and blowing away into the night, the glowing tip lighting up her face in the dark muggy spring night. She only wished her troubles could be as easy to unload as breathing away, letting out the toxic fumes.

 _Oh_ , What a sweet ideal world that would be-


	4. The Greedy Chef, Bitches, and Pointy Noses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I adore Tessa Tellman, I really do....

 

                                                             

 

  

 

~ 3 weeks, and 8 Hours Later... ~

 

 

“Honestly Tess, I feel like I’m at a crossroads. I have no idea what to do…”

Libby said glumly, plucking a small bruschetta hors d’eouvre off the large silver platter in front of her.

She had been helping to prepare the food with Tessa, as she was asked to cater a party for the ‘Little Black Art Gallery in Chelsea, Tessa was a very famous party caterer in this London burrow. And she had asked Libby to come along to lend a hand. They were happily ensconced churning out more plates of food on request for anything that got a little low, hidden behind a huge partitioned white curtain in the far end of the gallery. Waiters were flitting in and out like bees in a hive, laden with trays of Tessa's wonderful food. Libby at least got the station above waiter as Tessa had insisted she fill her in on what was happening between her and Ben.

She was sat on a black metal stool, overlooking the large island that was blanketed in large plates of food to be circulated throughout the room. Libby and Tessa were dressed in Chef whites with Tessa’s catering company logo on the front, the breast pocket emblazoned with ‘The Greedy Chef’ catering logo.

“Oi, Look. Red. Stop stuffing your face, and tell me what's up between you and Batch, and this prim little ‘Rachel’ idiot...”

Tessa demanded. Brushing more sweet soy sauce over the spicy prawn dumplings.

“Is this what you do to your friends? You have one for every party, friend in every borough, and bully them into submission should you need help?"

Libby asked with a small smile. Popping a small shitake mushroom and thyme vol au vent with hei hei salt, onto her tongue.

Tessa tilted her head to Libby, mouth set in a grim unamused line. Grey eyes threatening to storm in anger at her friends quip. Libby made a note to then lean over and nudge the knife set in front of her away from her perturbed friend with the tip of a wooden spoon. Libby had known Tessa for almost seven years now, and she had met her when she first came to London as an Undergraduate from Uni, and they had become steadfast friends, Tessa was three or four years older than Libby, but always liked to play up the fact she was more mature, and ailing than the vivacious redhead. Stating that Libby could still be bed hopping with handsome actors, while she would be hauling her tits off her shoes. To which Libby would always laugh. She could never understand why Tessa was such a cranky old cynic. Because she was utterly gorgeous. Tall, just shy of Libby’s height, slim, very willowy. With shoulder length dark brunette hair, streaked with thin sporadic whisps of silver, (which she often dyed over) one faded grey hoop in the top of her ears to give away that long passed hint of rebellious youth. And she had deep molten silver eyes that stormed when she was angry and shone like polished coins when she was in her natural environment. Shouting and delegating orders in a kitchen, bossing stray waiters around, and cooking amazingly sumptuous food.

“..And besides. Not much is happening with Batch and Rachel. That’s the point. I have one heinous lunch where she tells me how she really feels, I tell him because I, evidently cannot keep a secret, and he brushes it off as stress. Three weeks later. Here I am. This glum yet ravishing creature sat in front of you..” Libby said.

Tessa placed down a pot of fresh chopped basil next to her as she was talking. And intrusted her to place one piece on each tiny sliver of bruschetta. Tessa watched as Libby looked down at the pot with a melancholy stare, before reaching in and pinching the basil to scatter as per Chef’s instructions.

Tessa was concerned. And if there was one thing Tessa Massingham was not, it was one to be concerned. But Red was really giving her a reason to be.

She looked miserable. Even a layer of perfectly applied make up couldn’t hide the dark puffy bags under her eyes. Nor disguise the fact that that little gleaming blue spark of happiness had faded from her once ecstatic blue eyes. And she had seen the nicotine patch applied to her forearm as she helped chop tomato’s earlier. It was safe to say Libby was not in great shape. She even looked a little thinner too, gaunt and morose. And if she was going on about things people were not, then Libby never came under the category of morose and emaciated. She still looked as beautiful as ever, of course, just. Burdened…

“So. Why did this, ‘Rachel’” Tessa mimicked in a funny voice. Waving a knife in the air as she diced more red onions, making supposed air quotes with the knife.

“I love how you say ‘Rachel’ like, purportedly that’s what her name is…”

Libby smiled, raising her eyebrows. Fiddling idly with a skewif cheese straw, baked from scratch.

“Yea. Why did she, just, shit all over hers and Benny B’s relationship like that? Is she regretting it?” Tess asked, angrily dicing fresh herbs.

“I don’t know, All I know is, She’s not happy and Ben won’t listen to my input on saying she is that way…”

Libby smiled meekly handing over a large plate of battered shrimp balls with sweet chilli sauce to an empty handed catering staff member who had slunk back in behind the curtain after making the rounds, feeding the starving art crowd.

“Why is he doubting you? You never lie, I don’t think your capable?” Tess teased.

Libby snorted with laughter. Sipping on the last glug in a glass of wine, pinching yet another one of Tessa’s mouth watering hors’ d’oeuvres.

“I think, that he really loves her…” Libby admitted, her mouth dry from chewing on the flaky pastry of a cheese straw.

“..And when you love someone so madly, you don’t want to hear that they have flaws, or shortcomings. Or ugly sides to them. You just want to believe, that they’re…”

“Perfect…”

Tessa finished, crossing to the crate of fine wine that was un-stacked in the large fridge, pulling out a bottle and uncorking it. Decanting a large amount of wine into Libby's glass.

Libby nodded. Glumly. As Tessa waved a glass of chilled white wine under her nose. Making sure Libby was grasping onto her insinuation

“Pardon me, Greedy Chef, is this allowed? Dipping into the workplace poison…”

Libby asked with hesitance.

“Who gives a fuck. Its needed. See a need. Fill a need, Now drink up and let’s bitch some more about this bitch…” Tess winked.

Libby dutifully grabbed the glass with a barely there smile, and dived in.

“It’s also unethical to get your employee’s drunk…”

Libby mumbled into the wine glass. Taking a sip before swirling her fingers round the rim.

“Well. Technically, You do this for free, and you are one of my oldest and closest friends. And as I am not paying you for this service, you are under no contractual obligations, hence, do as I say, your in my kitchen, Red.”

Tess barked out with a cheeky smile and yet another wink.

“Stop winking at me, would you? I eat your delicious food, I drink your fancy, very nice booze. This is nearly a date, careful I don’t come home with you and really make a night of it…” Libby joked.

“Well, frankly, I wouldn’t care, I’d go as far to sleep with you so long as you smiled again…”

Tess said, joking aside, there was a note of seriousness to her voice now.

"I really am fine Tessa." Libby urged in a flat raspy voice.

Tessa raised a brow.

"I Know your fine Red. Your as tough as old boots, you are. A right stubborn old broad.." Tess complimented.

Libby snorted into her glass.

"All I'm saying. Is that you are no DNR lost hoper just yet...."

"DNR?" Libby asked.

"Do Not Resuscitate." Tess filled in.

"Now there's a cheery thought..." Libby grumped moodily.

"Allow me to enlighten you with Perspective, here. Red. You are not a DNR. You. Are still a viable commodity. With a hot ass, and great tits. And you still have reason to smile..."

“What’s there to smile about? I’m a 32 year old single woman with no social life and vast love of Asian food and 20’s cinema…”

Libby moped. One hand under her chin, as she idly dusted spilled dry herbs around the countertop with her finger.

“Don’t you mean, a rockin hot, young hottie, with curves to die for and an ass even I, would kill to wriggle on…”

Tessa smiled, mock flirting. It was a long running joke between the two women.

“Steady now, girl.” Libby urged.

“You, are a hot fox, red! So stop being so down in the mouth, get up, get out there… and oh my Jesus fuck, don’t look now, and hold onto your socks I think Ben and his harpy are here…”

Tess confessed, seeing a familiar lanky muscled brunette man cross on the far side of the gallery, catching a glimpse of him through the curtain. He had a leggy raven haired, green eyed woman on his arm. And Damn it all, he looked happy. Drink in hand, grinning, and idly muttering to his girlfriend about art.

Libby turned and caught a glimpse. Her stomach churning. Before she dropped her head to the counter, letting out a huge thud and a moan.

“I’ll give you fifty quid to give me a serious knife related injury right now, that requires urgent medical attention…”

Libby whined. Motioning for Tessa to stick a knife in her throat.

Tessa was still preoccupied watching after the happy couple. Both women now having stood and moved to partially hide behind the curtain, peeking out at the crowd in a most silly looking manner. Staring with heads tilted all the way to the right, like some bizarre stalkers.

“Why is she complaining. She looks so happy with him…” Tessa wondered aloud.

“That’s the alarming part.” Libby muttered under her breath.

Tessa looked hard at Rachel for another good long few seconds.

“Nahhhhhh,I Don’t like her.” Tessa growled.

“Conclusive much? Chef?” Libby asked rhetorically.

“She seems arrogant, and that tan, not at all natural. Eyebrows over plucked, she goes to the gym too often, and her nose is too pointy…”

“Her _nose i_ s too pointy…” Libby repeated in a flat voice.

“Please don’t publicly declare your reasons for aversion to Ben’s girlfriend, unless you can come up with something better than the pointiness of her facial features..” Libby mumbled in a dry voice.

“It’s true. Boy better be careful. That thing could take an eye out if a kiss goes awry…” Tess added.

Libby found laughter bubbling up in her throat as she struggled not too laugh.

Tessa grinned on seeing her friend finally crack a genuine smile.

“Perhaps, in hindsight, we shouldn't be hiding behind the catering curtain spying on my best friend?” Libby suggested.

Tessa made a shrewd face. Looking at Libby for a moment.

“You're right…” She finalised, crossing to the table.

Libby took a solitary second to admire Ben and Rachel striding through the gallery, sipping champagne and looking like an advert for E-Harmony.

“Better still, I have an idea. Spy on them _out there_ instead….” Tessa directed.

Before Libby’s eyes even had a chance to turn wide, and before she could turn around and argue. Tessa had shoved a platter of Shrimp balls into her hands, pushed her firmly (on the ass) and stumbled her out into the gallery, drawing the curtain shut behind her. Libby was left gaping in a somewhat startled fashion at the crowd out in front of her. She heard Tess chirp a sarccy sentence from behind the partition.

“Can’t leave the Kitchen, I’m afraid, Red, I am The Chef. Off you pop, smile, and _have fun….”_

Libby, meanwhile, made a mental note to hurt Tessa very badly when she eventually was let back in that Kitchen…


	5. Balls, Courage and.... News....

 

 

 

Libby had no other choice but to circulate the room now. Especially since she had been booted out of the Kitchen by Tessa. So, she smiled, genteelly and formally. Holding the tray in one hand, evenly distributing the weight of it across her palm. Silently cursing Tessa with the all the fire of hell fury she could muster. She ducked and weaved cautiously through the room, making sure to cling behind figures as she moved. She wasn’t sure why she was working so hard on avoiding Ben and Rachel. Part of her was hurt by it, whilst the other part of her knew it was because she felt ashamed, and mightily awkward.

She was the fat assed, still single thirty something woman, and if that wasn’t bad enough on its own stead, she was the one who would serving them drinks and hors d’ouevres this evening. All the while, Benedict had a veritable living goddess on his arm. It was demeaning and belittling for her, she wanted to crawl under a rock. Or, the next best thing failing that, crawl back home and hibernate under her duvet, rewarding herself with a Marlboro light and Joe Wright's Pride and Prejudice.

She cursed under her breath and stood stock still behind a huge stone white pillar. Out of sight from Ben and Rachel who were still arm in arm, not ten feet away from her the other side of the sparsely crowded gallery, to make it worse, Ben had looked right in her direction not too long ago, as she heard him comment to Rachel about the striking piece of artwork just over Libby’s shoulder.

“Wow, look at that piece, the colours are so eccentric…” He pointed out to Rachel. “Unique huh?” he soothed.

Rachel turned and surveyed the canvas – of what Libby thought was also, a deeply atmospheric piece, brazen with colour, unanimously agreeing with Ben. And her little button nose wrinkled with distain as she shook her head and grimaced.

“It’s heinous…” Rachel scoffed. Sipping on her champagne.

Libby raised a brow _, careful not to strain your vocabulary too hard, love._ She thought. Rachel could be wonderful, but it hadn’t taken Libby long to notice she was a prim primadonna. Not that she ever let on to Ben about it…

With that she found it was time to shuffle along again. Libby stuck to a small group of well ‘upholstered’ (so to speak) balding business men, all chatting idly about stocks and how much they hated art. As much as Libby wasn’t one to talk down to anyone, or judge anyone solely based on their appearance. They provided excellent cover for hiding from her sort of best friend and his diva of a girlfriend. She skulked behind the screen the men provided, before they seemed to spot her and lunge hungrily for her tray of Shrimp balls, smiling sweetly and looking interested and polite, straightening up slightly, not hunching over in order to avoid Ben.

When they dissipated, after clearing a veritable swathe through her heaving platter of shrimp, she peered around a rather tall man, stood conversing with two other people to see that Ben and present company had their backs to her – thank christ – she was beginning to look like she was doing the chicken dance with all the dipping and bobbing up and down. At this point, the tall man she was hidden behind in the grey tweed jacket, must’ve sensed her loitering presence, as he turned around to question her. He was met with a charming smile from the redhead, as Libby raised the platter with a polite smile of;

“Shrimp Ball?”

Thankfully, they took Libby’s offer, nearly cleaning her out of entrées. Claiming that the sweet soy sauce was particularly good. And that would she be so kind to pass on their compliments to the Chef. Libby nodded formally, before moving off, biting her lip as she saw that Rachel and Ben’s backs were turned away.

She bit her lip, scampering madly - but professionally – to a large cluster of installations that would hide her from the Batch and the Diva’s view. They divided the long narrow gallery into a ‘V’ shape. Seperating the throngs of people. And she was thankful to every seraphim, cherubim, archangel, cloud attendant and beard trimmer that god had up in the heavens that she could now scarper to the where the starters were laid out with the complimentary champagne.

There was something so sad yet comical about sneaking away behind the distraction of her, former best friend. And she could’ve sighed at that thought. A couple of snapped words and she felt distanced from him. The image of him and her, beer in hand, collapsed in laughter on her sofa with a bowl of popcorn and fawlty towers on the telly was a jaded image to her memory now. And that used to be her life… She supposed she just let herself get too comfortable with the thought that Ben and Her, would always be conjoined at the hip. In Uni, they stuck to each other like glue, rarely did you see one without the other. Libby just had to learn that hers and Ben’s glory days were long since over. He would always be destined to find some wonderful, amazingly attractive woman. And she, she supposed, would eventually find her Mr Right. If she stopped watching Jane Austen film adaptations and imagining that her ideal man would be wearing a cravat and breeches, and would fight a duel at dawn with some scoundrel for besmirching her honour.

She was so consumed in thought that she wound her way through the crowd without much bearing or aforethought, that she didn’t look where she was going, and as one man moved backwards, his elbow collided softly into her ribs with distinguishable impact. She swerved out of the way of his path, apologising and hoping she could just slip right past. Tucking hair back behind her ear.

“Pardon me, miss. It is damn near close to infamy that I didn’t see that sexy ass coming my way….” The voice droned lustily.

Libby would’ve gaped her mouth, turned right back around, and slapped him so hard his teeth would’ve ached. And bled. for months.

-Had it not been JJ fields who had said it.

She gasped, instead with a laugh and a glad smile. looking down to her scuffed, Doc ridden feet.

“How is it, that my back is always turned, and I manage never to see _you_ coming?” Libby asked with a grin.

“I’m alarmingly good at lying in wait for beautiful young ladies…” JJ winked.

“Like any true gentleman…” Libby japed.

JJ’s eyes sparkled.

“Oh, where are my manners, Shrimp ball?” Libby asked, offering up the platter to JJ’s advantage.

“Why, Miss Turner, I thought you’d never ask…”

He growled. Accepting one, plucking it off the platter, dipping it in the sweet soy dip and eagerly eating it. Washing it down with a gulp of his white wine. Libby ignored the sexy way his tongue licked the sauce off his fingers.

“Careful Matron..” She mocked, straight out of a carry on film.

JJ got a good look at her then. And his snappy, maturely sharp attention was piqued by a few details to her appearance that had changed since he saw her last a couple of months ago. It was all taken in with a quick sweep of his eyes - She looked tired, not to say she looked bad, gods, Lucky always managed to knock the breath out of him, knock him sideways, on his ass. You name it, this woman was capable of having that affect on him. But she just had this air of haggardness about her. The grey under her eyes heavier, like saddle bags on a horse. And fetching curls of red were helping to frame her face. His eyes also caught the upper corner of a nicotine patch on her lower arm, and the fact her baggy Chef whites looked ill fitting, even over her fulfilling figure. And her usually vibrant eyes looked worn out. Sparkle free. He hated that fact as they were usually so full of jovial life and colour.

“So, tell me. What’s up with you?” JJ asked.

“Oh, I’m a constant. Nothing much ever changes with me.” She smiled.

JJ nodded. But he didn’t look like he believed her. As there weren’t many people stood surrounding them, he felt it was approriate to sling a hand low across her back.

“Come on, who you talking to?”

He asked rhetorically, asking who she was trying to kid. Peering down her sleeve to show her he had seen the nicotene patch. _Damn the ever watchful eyes of actors_ , Libby thought.

Libby’s smile wavered.

“I’ve been in better shape. Let’s leave it at that.”

“I saw you in a magazine the other day. OK, I think. Mentioned you had Lunch with Ben’s girl at Gusteau in Knightsbridge…” JJ said.

“How do you zone straight in on my problems like that? What do you have, telechenesis?” Libby asked.

“I know, because of one, the article, and two, I met her…” JJ smiled.

“And…” Libby seeked in a quiet whisper.

“He could do better…” He mused quietly.

Libby felt bad for leading on bad opinions of the woman.

“She’s not completely awful…”

She tried to defend. But who was she trying to fool? The whole reason she felt so glum, was because of the woman in question, and her horrible secrets.

JJ raised a skeptical brow.

“I don’t think we’re talking about the same woman here…” JJ said gravely.

“ _I’m_ talking about the woman who when I met her and Ben for lunch at Selfridges two weeks ago, told me upfront that she didn’t like mine, or Ben’s work in the Third Star, called it a ‘Moronic piece of scenery and a grotesque plot line.’ And she and kept calling me ‘Tom’ for the duration of our half hour meal…” He said with feistiness.

Libby winced.

JJ gave her a smug ‘thank-you-very-much’ look.

“You may rest your case…” Libby said glumly.

“It sounds like we’ve all had bad lunch dates with this woman.” Libby began.

“Painful would be more appt…”

JJ interjected. Libby couldn’t ignore the rather lovely way his hand rested on her lower back. After a few months of being a dating pariah and a with going on even more months than that since she had had sex. She was enjoying being touched, if innocently, by a mans hand again. she was never one to ‘see to herself’ during the dry months, so to speak. But JJ’s touch reminded her of just how starved she’d been. Even for simple, genuine human connection. He really was every bit, a tall cool handsome glass of water after a long hot, and parched, while.

“… At ours she told me Ben wasn’t her ‘someone special’..” Libby added softly with pain. It even hurt her to just _relay t_ he words.

He shook his head, angrily.

“What a catch..” He snarled. Sarcasm dripping like venom from his, lovely thin, yet somehow dreamy lips… Libby retracted that thought before it caught her, and made an indecent woman of her.

JJ looked guilty, as did Libby. They were both sheepish of being on the verge of very much hating this woman.

“But Ben’s fast falling in love with her…” Libby suplemented with gloom.

JJ looked solemn.

“It get’s to all of us eventually…” He concurred.

Libby smiled at him. The hint of that sparkle returning.

“Indeed it does.” She agreed.

JJ smiled in an enormously sexy and handsome manner at her.

“Anyway, I better be getting back to the Caterering corner, or Tessa will have my head…” Libby smiled meekly, going to move off.

“Oh, I’ve almost forgotten about that spirited lass..” JJ mocked with a wink. He was of course, joking. Him and Tessa got along like a house on fire.

Libby knew it wouldn’t be long before Ben and rachel happened round the corner and bumped headfirst into her and JJ. She’d really rather prefer to be back ensconsed behind the white catering curtain before that happened, although happy that the chance meeting with JJ had lifted her spirits.

“I better make a move, and sharpish. Ben and Rachel are dotted amongst this crowd, somewhere..” Libby hushed quietly.

JJ nodded.

“I clocked them earlier, made a beeline for the bar. I just know she’ll call me ‘Tom’ again. Apart from her, I feel like a sleaze for avoiding Ben…” He admitted.

“Why are you hiding away anyway? You can’t stand her that much?” JJ asked.

Libby made a face.

“Let’s just say, Ben coerced her confession out of me, and the end result of his words is this remarkable look I’m currently sporting…” she said in a soft voice.

JJ’s eyes turned serious.

“Oh Lucky…” He crooned, tilting his head. Voice like honey.

She began to move off before his hand stilled her, gently steeling warm contact around her wrist.

“You promise me one thing…” He asked before she slid away.

She turned and nodded, and did that infamously pretty blink of hers.

“You ever get an end result like that again, and you get that sexy ass over to my place, and we’ll crack open a bottle of wine over dinner and a movie. Ok?” he demanded.

Libby smiled.

“Don’t be too gentlemanly to me. In the state I’m in, I might marry, and make a honest man out of you…” She joked.

Inwardly, he knew that was her thanking and accepting his gracious offer.

“I would never turn that offer down.” He promised.

Libby smiled, and then, she just slipped away into the busy crowd. JJ was left looking at the empty space she left, the essence of her scent – lavender and perfume - still lingering in the air.

Libby bobbed and shifted through the dense crowd of people once more, moving quickly, and light on her feet, considering her chunky choice of footwear. She had just made it to the catering curtain, centimetres shy of slipping inside when a baritone voice softly called her name from behind her.

It was Ben. The man she had been so trying to avoid all evening.

Her stomach seemed to clench, and churn at the same time.

She swallowed, mouth still dry, and turned to face him. As him and Rachel made their way over to her. She felt cornered. But Ben’s smile and ethereal eyes seemed to soften the blow.

“Hey..” He smiled, keeping an arm about Rachel at his side.

“Hey you.” She smiled, not quite meeting his eyes.

“Rachel, you look lovely as always…”

She added, to the woman who was draped elegantly in a beige shift dress, with stark tan heels and golden bangles jingling and shimmering on her bronzed, and toned arm. Hair elegantly coiffed and one hand clutching her champagne glass.

“Libby. You’re a waitress?” Rachel struggled. “I thought you were an author…”

She asked with trepidation. As if the job, and Libby herself was undeserving and below her. But the way she said it made Libby want to curl up into herself and perish on the spot. She so wished the ground could open up, and swallow her whole right then.

“Helping out a friend…” Libby explained.

Her eyes met Bens and a sneaky little thought echoed far off in her head.

_Helping a friend who will accept my help, actually. A rarity in my life at the minute…_

“I was hoping to catch up with you…” Ben added in a raspy voice, clearing his throat.

“We, um. I…”

That was when Rachel’s hand moved. And something caught the heavy spotlight in the galley on Rachel's fourth finger. _On her left hand._

Libby’s heart was in her mouth in an instant, and it felt like her stomach was in her ears. Her breath caught and she wasn’t sure if she’d ever breathe another.

She took another peek, just to make sure the eight carat, white gold, tiffany engagement band was on her hand, and it wasn’t just a flight of fancy at the expense of her brain.

Suddenly she wanted to be very far away from either of them.

“Congrats are in order, then..”

Libby barely managed to breath out. Since when had her pulse been quite so loud?

“Thank you..” Ben added, opening his mouth to say something else.

Libby cut him off.

“Would you, just. I’ll see you back inside in a few, I just need…”

She gestured to the busy kitchen behind her. Needles were starting to spear her chest.

Ben nodded, looking sheepish and concerned. Rachel smiled.

She smiled, with an onslaught of tears not far off being shed, she whisked the curtain closed behind her, enveloping her back into Tessa’s spacious kitchen, that was now a spinning, dragging and dizzying white blur.

Tess watched as Libby stumbled in, and stayed stock still as a fear paralysed animal of prey. Her skin looked ashen, and so _very_ pale. Paler than usual. Green nearly…

Red?” Tess asked, standing the knife down and moving to her friend.

She may aswell have been a million miles away, all she heard was a vague murmur.

Libby had barely enough time to just blurt out

“ _Ben’s-engaged_ -“

And Tessa barely had time to hear it, Before Libby tore into the tiny staff lavvy just across the outer doors to the bins, and vomited violently into the toilet.

The image of that gleaming ring burning in her mind as she sobbed miserably over the toilet bowl with retching sobs, and rivers of tears cascading down her cheeks, as Tess rubbed her back soothingly.

 

 

 


	6. Aftermath, Red Wine and... Would You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok, AM I the only one who had an absolute MAJORLY MASSIVE JJ Fields fetish? I mean, seriously!? ugh, that man....mnnnnmmmmm, get in my knickers, I tell you this now, This author would not kick that lad out of bed....
> 
> With Love
> 
> (Now horny) Author 
> 
> x

 

 

 

After Libby had finished her ‘stomach-contents-expelling-fest’ into the gallery staff toilets. She stayed slumped against the floor next to the loo for safekeeping, Tessa having handed her a tall glass of water to sip on, and who was tearing up little pieces of black olive bread to force feed her friend and attempt to gather something substantial and stodgy in her stomach.

Her tears had dried now, leaving in their place a wet smear of black under her eyelids, with the exception of two dewy lines of eye make up dripping down her cheeks, like the evening dew dripping down blades of glass. Libby wasn’t quite sure how to feel just yet, a positive kaleidoscope of emotions were raging around inside her like a tempest. Anger was tugging at her, along with misery and sadness, going along the feeling of emptiness and destitution. She also felt exhausted, like every last ounce of energy had been sapped from her usual endless spectrum of spirit. She couldn’t believe what had transpired between Ben and Rachel, three weeks ago, the woman said he wasn’t the ‘one’ for her, and now here she was accepting an offer of marriage. It was barbaric, it left Libby wondering what kind of twisted game Rachel was trying to play with her, she sighed with despondency, _former_ , best friend.

“Do you want me to take you home, now you’ve finished your exorcist projectile episode?” Tessa asked quietly, still with a twinge of humour in her words. As ever.

“It’s ok. I walked here, I’ll walk back..” Libby explained.

Tess watched as Libby bit her lip, Tessa saw more tears amassing in her friends eyes. Silvery white and shining in the shabby exposed light of the dank little bathroom.

Tessa was suddenly hit by a sheer wave of emotion that made her see how much her friend was suffering through this.

“He shouldn’t have reacted this way to his best friend..” Tess said quietly.

Libby shook her head, staring off into the far distance.

“No.. He shouldn’t have, It was a pretty shitty thing to do really. And now the woman whose going to hurt him has an eight carat engagement band on her finger. He’s governed by his love for her, and I get cast to the wayside as the silly jealous female.” Libby muttered quietly.

“Can’t you just try talking to him again? Give it another chance?” Tessa asked.

Libby scoffed with half laughter that sounded haunted.

“If this is what happens to me after the first attempt, I’m not really sure I’ll want to see what a second can do…” She interposed. Sipping more water.

“Do you want me to bend his ear for you?” Tess narrowed her eyes, steeling her impenetrable stare to death con 5; maximum kill level.

Libby shook her head, definitively.

“No, that would only make things worse, sounds like a teenage girl pawning off her secret crush on another person in a science lesson. Thanks Tess, I love you for offering, But I have to decline…” Libby added.

It was then Tessa saw a slight smile cross her lips.

“Besides which, I don’t think you’d be capable of bending Ben’s ear. Ripping into him with all the subtle tact and grace of a Nazi Stormtrooper, yes. But subtlety really isn’t your befitting forté, Tess.” She teased lightily.

Tessa smiled right back at her, handing her another chunk of bread which she gladly accepted, chewing on it noiselessly. She was relieved to know that there was still a sliver left of Libby’s fighting spirit that hadn’t deserted her.

Libby sighed. Making a move to heave herself up from the floor, and wipe her eyes. Standing, she looked In the stained, slightly chipped and broken mirror opposite her, to see her stained, and broken reflection staring back. With drippy mascara smeared eyes that were red raw from being rubbed, and her pale face which her charming digestive pyrotechnics had caused. She looked a right wreck, which was fitting, considering she now felt like one.

She groaned and wiped her hands under her eyes. As she stood, she felt her tired body weigh her down. Her legs felt like jelly holding up the iron statue that was her torso. Feeling remarkably weak, she wiped her smudges of makeup away on her black polyster work trousers. And swallowed, taking slow but sure steps out of the loo, and back through to the kitchen. She felt Tessa walk beside her, link her arm around her waist, and hold her close. It was such a loving gesture, that it made another tear drop from Libby’s eye. But she smiled and looked deep into Tessa’s grey orbs that swirled with concern for her oldest (but youngest) friend.

“Hey now.”

Tessa cooed. Catching the stray tear with a clean linen tea towel with the catering company logo on it.

Libby made no move except to hug her friend close, one arm across the neck, thanking her the only way she knew how. Knowing Tessa would call her a soppy twat, but times like these called for something more than a mere thankyou.

“Don’t worry.” Libby reassured her, patting her back. “I won’t let anyone know about your emotionally compromised few moments in looking after me.”

“Better fucking not.” Tessa growled, Libby could tell she was smiling.

“…and I’ll dismember you with a fish knife if you do..”

She threatened. It was Libby’s turn to smile now. Back in place was Tessa’s armour, but just for a moment, Libby had realised there were bigger holes in her tough chain mail so to speak, and it was her. Caring was Tessa Massingham's one weakness.

The two women parted from a hug. Libby sniffed and smiled, and Tessa returned her eager grin right back.

“Better we ended that hug before any waiters came in, I might be renamed the ‘Greedy Lesbian’ catering company otherwise…” Tessa cheeked with a wink.

Libby made a repelled face at her.

“That’s gross Tessa..” She smiled.

“and FYI, you’d be a lot more popular in Soho if you did…” She added.

Tessa beamed with a smile.

“Exactly, Red. All business is good business…”

She winked. Moving a large tray with both hands to the sink.

Libby moved to undo the bow on her short white waist apron. Setting it down atop the nearly empty kitchen surface.

That was before the din outside the curtain grew louder for a minute, the smooth latino late night jazz echoed louder in the kitchen, before It grew quiet again. It made Libby and Tess realise that they were no longer alone.

They turned to find a tall dreamily attractive man with curled brown hair and eyes the hue of melted chocolate smiling at them both, he was tall too, just brushing six foot one if Libby had to leverage a guess. Built like a beefy muscled rugby player, with a nice black suit jacket stretched onto his muscular torso, and fine blue silk shirt underneath, paired exquisitely with neat pointed tan shoes. Libby knew that Tessa was running off the same list as hers in her head. Looks? _Check._ Hair? _Check._ Body? _chhhheecccckkk._ Wardrobe? _BIG check._ An ideal man had stumbled into their path, and Libby was no fool, she saw him take a slow survey of Tessa as he stood there briefly. This caused a smile, as Tessa was mildly unaware.

“Sorry to disturb you, lovely ladies…”

The stranger spoke, eyes drifting from Libby to Tessa.

“..But a clumsy idiot spilled red wine down my shirt…”

As he moved further into the room, they indeed saw a huge burst of scarlet red blooming across, and spoiling the fine duck egg blue of his shirt.

“…And I was wondering if you would know anything I could get it out with?”

He asked politely. Eyes not roaming from Tessa now.

Libby smied politely.

“Well, Miss Tessa Massingham, I shall leave this in your capable hands. After all. You are the Head Chef.”

Libby winked. Getting her own back on her for shoving her outside the curtain earlier. If there was one thing Tessa hated, it was being left defenceless and on her own when it came to dealing with member’s of the opposite sex.

“No. Stay.”

Tessa urged in a strictly authorative voice.

“Please. I need, your-help-…with…something…”

She stuttered out nervously.

“Sorry. I’ve got to go and say goodbye to someone. But you stay and get some bicarb of soda for….”

Libby turned her head to handsome man, eyebrows raised in question that was the Universal signal for ‘what-is-your-name’

“Mark…” He answered.

“Mark Tellman…”

He introduced. Looking at Libby with caution at her tear stained make up.

“Lovely to meet you Mark. I was Libby Turner, I apologise for the state of me, I don’t usually look like I’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards, just having a rough night is all, and, by the way, this is Tessa Massingham. She’s single, and enjoys baking on weekends, and watching Mad Men, Hope to see you again.” Libby winked.

She moved to walk past Mark, hearing Tessa interject.

“Um, if you go an wash the worst of it off in the s-sink over there, bicarb should work a treat…”

Tessa smiled nervously.

“Excuse me one second…”

Tessa smiled sweetly. That was before Libby felt a sharp tug on her arm pulling her backwards.

“ _OHH, OW-kay_ …ow…”

She mumbled, shocked at the sudden change in position. Swirling back around to face Tessa who suddenly had a vulcan death grip on her arm.

“Youcannot leavemealone withhim.” She garbled out as one sentence.

“My mistake,” Libbys eyes switched off to the side and back again. "I thought I was.” She asked.

“He’s got nice eyes, and a great ass. And his voice, is, my god its _sexy_. I’ll make a fool out of myself no, you cannot leave now!”

Tess susurrated.

“I am _NOT_ third wheeling this one Tessa. No. Talk to him!”

Libby hissed. Jerking her head to the sink where Mark was.

“I’m worried I’ll cock it up by being my usual, god awful self.”

Tessa murmured uncomfortably. Grey eyes wide as she suddenly looked like a scared thirteen year old girl, she was fidgeting in her Chef whites.

Libby raised a brow with a kind smile.

“Just be, casual. Be open and flirty, and sexy. He’ll find that adorable..”

Libby supplied, going to move off before her arm was tugged back. _Again._

“Ok, dislocating my limb will not keep me here…..” Libby suggested.

“What do you mean, open and flirty and sexy? That’s not me. That’s _you_. _You_ do that and guys fall at your feet, _that_ and the fact you’re a knockout, I am not! Flirting isn’t for me. I’ll ask him something stupid, like what cheese he likes! Please, help! Then, I shall let you go!”

“What do you want me to do?” Libby hissed loudly.

“How.do.you.flirt?” Tessa spelled out simply.

“Stop trying so hard…”

Libby smiled kindly, looking deep into Tessa’s eyes, and seeing her relax somewhat.

“Flirting is nine tenths of the law, the other one is just being comfortable with who you are. Now, you have killer grey eyes and legs to die for. Tessa Massingham, go use them to your advantage…” Libby shushed quietly.

Tessa seemed to deflate then, all the tense panic leaving her small willowy body.

“Ok.”

She wet her lips, turning to head back over.

“He was sexy wasn’t he? It wasn’t just me…”

She asked quietly in a hushed voice.

Libby smiled.

“Yes, he was! Now go fetch.”

Libby urged, slapping Tessa on the tosh lightly to help her on her way. Smiling as she took a second before moving off.

She moved out between the curtain, taking one last look back as she heard Mark and Tessa laugh, stood side by side at the sink. Tessa dabbing with a wet cloth at his shirt. She seemed to notice that Mark was staring down at her as she concentrated on the crimson tarnish on his chest. She peered up, and from the moment her grey eyes looked into his russet brown orbs for the first time, Tessa Massingham then stopped trying so hard, and started to feel something…..wonderfully, and …..delightfully…. different.

“Hi.”

He spoke softly and gently.

“Hey..”

She spoke, as equally as tender.

Libby smiled, whisking the curtain shut behind her and walking out into the brightly lit gallery, fewer people were shuffling around now. The emptying sight of a party calming down. The music had turned sexy and atmospheric, and the weak drinks had turned to strong ones as the London night blared on around outside. Libby was only all too eager to be a part of it after tonights colourful wheel of awful events.

She smiled as she saw JJ over in the corner, smiling and drinking a glass of wine. He hadn’t seen her, and she decided, after a minute or two to go over there and see if he needed a drinking buddy to join him. Her feet started to move over, before the crowd shifted, and the resulting sight made her stop.

The reason he was smiling so widely, was that there was a very pretty, tall and slim brunette stood by him as he laughed, she was wearing a dress of velvet blue that shimmered in the light, and he was smiling a pearly smile back at her. She felt a meagre swell of dissapointment and ever so slight envy mingle in her stomach. She smiled before she turned to leave, for good. It seemed everyone this evening was in love, or happy, save for she.

She made her way through the crowd, phone and money in her pockets, apron in her free hand, as she got to the main door she tugged it open, whilst taking out the marlboro lights packet, and her lighter. As she got onto the street, the cooling night breeze wrapped around her, and despite her heavy uniform, she felt the chill thrash right down her spine, the cold seeping right into her tired, miserable bones. Right then, as she stood to light the cigarette out on the pavement, every fibre, and cell of her being felt tired, and she just wished she could crawl into her bed there and then and hibernate for a week. Not face any of this damned world that was kicking her when she was down at the moment.

She flicked her lighter a couple of times, swaring it into oblivion before it finally decided to work. Thankfully, she inhaled. The tip lighting up her face as she got a lungful of the toxic fumes that she had missed for the past three weeks. She talked it off as a momentary lapse, as a reaction to the tragic news of Ben’s upcoming engagement. She could quit tomorrow, she told herself. Despite the fact that the situation with Ben was slowly picking apart pieces of her heart, she felt a sense of emptiness. Tessa had Mark, now. JJ had the Brunette. Ben had Rachel. She grit her teeth, it had been a rough few weeks, and she had never felt more alone.

Until she heard posh shoes clatter to a stop on the pavement behind her. She closed her eyes and inhaled, with one thought in her head:

  _please dear god, just don’t be Ben. I can’t look at you right now, let alone talk to you…. Please, just leave me be. You’ve got Rachel, you don’t need me…_

But as the wind carved around her it confirmed her worst fears, she caught a definate whiff of eau de monsieur cologne.

She slowly exhaled and turned around, to find he was doing the same as her, inhaling deep on a low tar cigarette. The bright amber tip lighting up the angualr planes of that face which stared impassively at her, golden blue eyes turned fiery red by the light reflecting back to her in them from the fag.

“Those things will kill you…” He said flatly.

“Ditto.”

She echoed back to him, equally as dryly.

“You vanished for a bit earlier, was trying to find you…”

He pointed out, there was underlying tension in his voice. A note of annoyance.

“I was work _ing_ …”

Libby explained wryly. Gesturing blindly to her uniform.

“Tessa couldn’t spare you for two seconds so we could talk…” He asked irately.

“I was a little busy trapped under the weight of handing around trays of voul au vons at the time, but, next time, I’m sure I’d just have to be more considerable and cooperative as to your talking needs…”

Libby promised, acid starting to creep in on her tone.

Ben’s jaw ground together.

“Fine, be pissy with me. I just wanted to check if you were ok.”

“Oh, I’m grand, on top of the world here.”

Libby smiled ironically. She was _smoking_. She _hated and despised_ smoking. That should tell Ben all he needed to know, and it did.

“Look, don’t try and pin your shitty problems on me.” He began, voice turning into a raw

“Shitty problems? Tell me Ben, Has Rachel said anything to you lately?” Libby asked.

“Oh, what is this, obessesion you have with wanting to make me hate her. Give it up, Libs, I’m going to marry her, I love her, I’ve moved on with my life, deal with it. Its time you grew up and did the same thing. I’m not going to stay single, for your benefit!” He said loudly.

Libby shook her head.

“Why is it so hard to make you believe me, she is lying to you! Can’t you see that?” She pleaded.

“No. All I see is the woman I will love and marry.” He defended.

“Ok fine. Marry her. Make her Mrs-Happily-ever-after-Cumberbatch, because I will shut my gob forever and eternity if you can honestly tell me she has done, _nothing,_ that has made you even the least bit doubtful and suspicous…”

Libby said. Face stoic and serious. Her tone even, and level headed.

She saw something waver for a second or two in Ben’s eyes, that brief glimmer of defenceless vulnerability, before that mask of indifferent obstinance was back in place, firm and unrelenting and letting her know that she hadn’t won.

“No. She hasn’t.” He steeled.

Libbys heart sunk down low in her chest like the setting sun.

She threw her cigarette fag to the ground and swiveled her heeled doc-martened foot down on it. Suddenly her hunger for the cigarette was extinguished.

“Yeah the cigarette may kill me, but I think this conversation may do that also…” She said bitterly before she started to move off.

Ben twisted her round, gripping her arm and spinning her back around into his body so he could address her some more. He had rid himself of his cigarette too. Carelessly discarded it to the floor.

“Can’t you just swallow your damn pride and let it go. Whatever Rachel said, she clearly didn’t mean. So can you just forget it, and leave well enough alone…” Ben growled to her.

“Its not that easy…” Libby confessed.

“ _WHY_?” Ben shouted.

“She’s lying to you Ben, and when I told you, you didn’t want to believe me. Your my best friend. Where did all that honesty and truth go?”

She asked, looking hurt. He saw one lone tear drip down her face.

She stumped him there. He’ll admit. He swallowed, looking down at her. It hurt his heart to see her like this, so small and afraid, teary eyed, and saddened. She was hardly ever like this, not this troubled. _Not his_ fiesty Libby. Not his redhead.

Except….. She wasn’t his. And that was like a dagger _right_ to his heart…

“I have to go.”

Libby shrugged out of his hold, flickered her blue eyes up to his, and gave him one last fleeting look before she turned her back, and walked away.

She could feel his eyes burn into her back as she walked away, and all Ben could do was let her go.

 

 

 

 

~

 

 

 

She walked home in a daze, much like after her lunch with Rachel. Barely paying attention to anything, or anyone who passed her by. The streets of London were a sight for sore eyes in the spring, the warm breeze allows restaurants to proudly display their tables outside, and the chatter and laughter she hears on the way home is almost enough to paralyse her with pain. Even just the sight of people smiling is raw to her. It’s all she can do to haul her tired body back the ten minute walk home which seemed like years under the circumstances. All the while, flashes of Ben’s words, Rachel’s words, and that bloody ring flashing through her head.

She finally makes it back home. And after throwing herself in the door, and shutting it by slamming her back against it. She dosen’t quite know what to do first. Cry. Sleep. Rage. Eat? Hunger was nibbling away at her stomach quite a bit now...

She went upstairs to change into something more comfortable. Which consisted of light grey pyjama pants and a peacock blue V-necked jumper, with cosy grey striped socks on her feet.

She had just made it into the Kitchen, boiling the kettle, and switched on some of the lights downstairs, even the fairy lights that lined a tree or two in her front garden, even lit a fire to curl up by with a warming cup of tea when there came a scattering of a knock rattle across her front door.

She paused, before turning to go and answer it. And all but familiar silhouette was shadowed against the window in her front door.

She swung the door inwards slowly. Meeting a familiar pair of grey-blue eyes that belonged to a very accustomed friend.

She smiled and put a hand on her hips, as the companion held his hands behind his back and gave her a cheeky yet affable look with his twinkling eyes. He was dressed in a nice grey suit with light brown formal shoes, and a black shirt that accentuated his pale skin, and the russet brown of his short hair. He also had a smattering of burnt sienna stubble littering his chin and mouth.

“Tell me you’ve not progressed to following me home now, JJ..” Libby asked.

JJ sighed with a good natured smile.

“In my hands, I hold…” He brought the object around to his front so she could see.

“A large bottle of vodka. The largest bottle known to man…” He offered with a kind smile.

Libby looked up at him with thoughtfully glad eyes as she took the bottle off him.

“How did you know I needed it?” She enquired kindly. Nodding him in as he stepped across the threshold as per her invitation.

“Because I happened to go to the catering corner and had a little tete a tete with Tessa, who by the way, had her talons very firmly into a nice handsome young man….”

Libby smiled to herself as she headed into the kitchen and JJ shrugged off his jacket in the hallway, continuing to talk.

“….and then when she told me you left, I bid my goodbyes and went to the door, only to see a certain young miss say something to Benedict before walking off down the street…” JJ supplemented.

Libby looked sheepish as she crossed to the cupboard to fetch JJ a glass for his vodka.

“Ice? Any juice or etc to go with it?” She asked him, going into the fridge for milk.

“Stop avoiding my pointed question..” JJ smiled, leaning over her kitchen counter and popping a grape into his mouth.

Libby rolled her eyes as she poured milk into her tea.

“We…exchanged words again…” Libby answered vaguely.

“Words like….?”

“Honesty, truth, go, did, where, and. Aswell as go, let, Have, Libby, it, you, to.” Libby answered.

JJ took a minute reconfiguring words about in his head. Before he nodded…

“Some ugly stuff then..” He concluded.

“You. Didn’t answer my question…” Libby accused as she sipped her tea.

JJ frowned.

“What do you want to drink?” She asked.

JJ smiled.

“Vodka, neat. And shall we take this little soiree into the living room. I see a roaring fire to be made good use of.” He waggled his brows.

“No. There’ll be no…” Libby wiggled her eyebrows, mirroring his gesture.

She handed him his neat glass of vodka.

“Come on, my Lucky. Tell me what's on your mind…”

JJ soothed as they collapsed sown onto the sofa and Libby found herself lulled into a hug by the man.

“Have you got a year?” Libby moaned as she curled up against him.

“For you, my love, I have all the time the fates will allow me…” He smiled.


	7. Third Stars, Saving Graces, and Mercy Fucks...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hot hot hot towards the end, don't say you were not warned....
> 
> (Now, a very turned on) Author 
> 
> x

 

 

                                                                                                                         

 

                                                      

                   

 

It was definitely safe to say, that Libby, was _drunk_....

 

 

She blamed JJ really, Plying her with vodka all evening after she finished her tea. Just kept saying, ‘another, come on, one more’ until they found that he was sat slumped on the floor, and she was Stretched out on the sofa, and they were giggling like adolescent schoolchildren. In hindsight, Libby wasn’t too convinced that alcohol was a wise idea.. but she was quickly turned against it. JJ was infectious, and it recalled Libby to remember the time when they first met, many moons ago.

It was when Ben went to film the Third Star, Libby was invited along, as a fledgling shoot photographer, mainly because she was cheap, had no experience, but knew what she was doing behind a camera. It was shot in 2009, but released in 2010. So Ben and Libby spent most of the year in wales, out and about. Ben shooting with JJ, Tom and Adam. Whilst Libby helped and dabbled about on set with the film crew, she had the honour of meeting and being introduced to JJ for the first time.

He could remember first laying eyes on her…. It was on some beach, the name of which was impossible to pronounce in welsh, and Ben waved her over to meet everyone. The sun was just setting and when JJ looked up as Ben called her name, all JJ saw was how the wind whipped that red hair about her face, and how beautifully the sun shone through it, turning it into silky spun fiery gold. And from the minute those blue eyes looked into his and she shook his hand and smiled that disarming smile. Well, she had him, as far as he was concerned. There was one night on location many weeks later after they got to know each other, when the crew and some of the cast had to suffice camping on the beach in summer under the warm starlight in tents. This was the night JJ and Libby _really_ got to ‘know’ each other(so to speak) and they dated for two years afterwards. The reason for their amicable split, was simply that they agreed they were great lovers, but better friends. And friends they had stayed.

There was something so impossibly linked about the two, it was hard to place a finger on, But they adored each other and they always had, and would. JJ was so easy to be with and around. Libby had never known an actor to be so low maintenance. He was so affable, and at ease with everything. Even in parting ways with Libby, he didn’t regret a thing, and why should he? They’d had fun, pleasure, the time of their lives. But his career was picking up, and she was as in need for her skills and talent as ever. Libby had never before known a man who would be content to sit with her by a roaring fire, drink tea, and read a book. Of course, Ben loved that too, but he constantly needed something to feed his ferocious character, like kindling to a fire, and even T-Hiddy was far too active for her. JJ was laid back, and always tranquil, she could depend on him for that temperament. And they spent many a lazy holiday away to Scotland or Ireland doing just that, vacationing to his summer home near Pitlochry. Their conversation never ran dry, always was it infinitely alive and thriving. And even though the sexual tension sometimes peeked, none of them would act on it as such. It truly was the most rewarding friendship either of them had ever had.

Libby laughed at JJ as he necked another three fingers of vodka, hissing as he slammed the glass down.

“Something amusing, Lucky?” He asked with a sly smile.

She smiled, hugging a pillow close to her as she sat on the sofa and sipped at her vodka with ice.

“I was just thinking about the time we met do you remember..”

“I d _oacc_ tually.” He slurred. Raising his brows.

“I also remember having a very passionate romp with you in a tent…” He added, with a flutter of a wink.

Libby burst into laughter.

“Who uses the word, romp… anymore..” She asked through drunken tittering.

“Me, _apparently_ …”

He wheezed, chiding himself for his drunken behaviour, attempting to stand on drunken feet, swaying as he clutched onto the sofa, hauling himself up so he flopped on the sofa, placing her legs over his as he cradled her shins in his lap. Groaning as he did with Libby laughing merrily at him.

She wriggled around to get comfortable, trying to ignore the very nice way his palms slid up and down her legs, massaging them.

Libby stole a look to his face.

_Gods, he’s as handsome as I remember…_

she thought cheekily.

_And he always looks and smells great… oh god, brain, you really are mashed if you’re coming onto JJ…._

“I do remember the very first time I clapped eyes on you, Lucky…”

JJ spoke, concentrating on her feet, tilting his head as he spoke.

Libby was amazed that when he turned back to her, he had a sexy sparkle of lust in his eyes that made her loose her breath. And she suddenly felt very hot and flushed…

She sat up, blinking that elegant little blink she did that his brain caught and found incredibly sexy. The little look that begged him to carry on, those pretty blue eyes urging him onwards.

“It was the first or second day of filming…” He cleared his throat, taking care to talk properly, concentrating on every syllable.

“And we had just met everyone and were about to begin the read through, when.. Ben called your name. I remember thinking that was such a lovely name. Different. And then I saw you come bounding over, your hair a curled mess as it was whipped everywhere by the wind, shining a brilliant ruby red in the evening sun that caught it. And then you smiled at me, and I couldn’t stand… I had to settle for shaking your hand and promising myself I would get to know you better.” He spoke softly and gently, voice bruised by the sentiment.

Libby smiled.

“You fancied me.” Libby spat out bluntly.

JJ laughed, a sexy sound that bubbled up out of his throat. A sound that made Libby weak in the knees.

“Yes, very much so, Lucky…” He said, looking to her with a handsomely attractive smile.

“Wanna know a secret?” She asked on a wobbly drunken voice.

“Abso-bloody-lutely…” He steeled, glaring at her with a cheeky smile.

“I found you sexy…” She revealed,

“You hid that well…” He admonished.

“I’m a woman. We have to play hard to get…” Libby smiled.

“So that’s the world wide womanly secret…”

He said, mock amazed by the discovery.

“And also, heres another tip. If, you have, a pretty bird on your arm, and she’s wearing a very expensive dress that she nooks lice in, then she has some very scary underwear on underneath. The better she looks, the scarier and uglier the underwear. That’s the god honest truth…”

She slurred with a tiny hiccup proceeding her words.

“Nooks lice?” JJ questioned with a laugh.

“You know what I meant…”

She closed her eyes and reiterated her point. Shaking her head, and finding it impossible not to let a little laugh slip out after her silly intoxicated sentence.

“On a completely relatable point, may I just say, you always looked amazing in dresses when we went to premieres… even that one time when you wore that blue halter necked dress, and you had on absolutely _nothing_ underneath…”

JJ lusted in a husky voice that sounded like liquid velvet dripping seductively into her ear.

Libby smiled. Biting her lip.

“I remember that dress. I remember that night too…” She blushed.

She looked over to JJ who smiled like the devil at her.

“It was a good’un. You couldn’t _walk_ the morning after…” He reminded her.

She smiled, thoughts of that night making her body tingle, before her thoughts drifted off to Ben. And his hateful words… she could only wonder…

“John, Am I immature?”

She asked, utilising his full first name as so he knew it was a serious enquiry. She was nervously twisting her glass in her hands.

“No, you’re not. And don’t you dare pay any attention to Ben, he’s being an ass to you.” He offered. Voice dominant, forcing her to listen.

“Am I attractive?” She asked, deep in her slump a little pit of shame. Still looking at her glass.

JJ leaned forwards, plucked her glass from her hands, set in down on the table, and took her hands in his until her blue eyes looked up to meet his.

Beyond the background noise of Jamie Cullum playing ‘My Yard’ in the background, with the fire lit, the lights dimmed low, and a couple of lights flickering away about the room. She heard the clock in her kitchen strike three as she looked deep into JJ’s eyes, and his deeply handsome face, so handsome she could barely stand not kissing him. He looked just sinful in candlelight. As if she didn’t find him irresistible enough already…

“Yes you’re attractive… the most stunning woman I know…”

He soothed, carting a hand through her loose red hair down the side of her face.

“Don’t let the bastard get you down, Lucky…” He spoke gently.

To Libby, the touch set her on fire, every cell sizzling with the urge to be touched, loved, kissed, held. Soothed even, just a connection was all she wanted. And as JJ touched her, she found she _craved_ it.

All she could think about was his lips…

All he could focus on was her lovely pale, creamy skinned swan like neck…. And those sexy blistering blue eyes that he wanted to drown in.

They both knew the alcohol was making them loose control over emotions and giving them the barest hint of a foothold on their libido’s.

But they also both knew that they didn’t care….

“But, Would you…want to sleep with me?” She asks.

And before the words can even leave her mouth, she finds JJ has delivered her an answer.

“Yes..” He rasped, nearly panting now.

Her eyes were fixated on his lips…. His on her face, and those soft kissable full lips he had missed so..

They were beckoning to him… and true to his wishes, those eyes were pulling him in.

The background music didn’t help either, a swaying sexy soulful song, ‘You give me love’ by Idris Elba. Even though Libby’s iPod was on shuffle, JJ couldn’t help but feel the appropriate nature of the romantic song.

_‘You give me love, so pure and so free, and you give me all, the little things, that I could ever need…‘_

As if it were orchestrated for the moment, JJ took Libby’s face in the side of his right hand.

“Don’t talk yourself down because of Ben’s shortcomings… You’re amazing and you should be treated so much better than the way he’s treating you, Lucky. I’m going to stop saying his name, because I’m going to kiss you now, and I’m not sure I’m going to want to stop…” He breathed

Despite the fact that JJ was reeling her in and her heart was doing something funny in her chest. Libby still found a shred of sobriety that questioned this position.

“Should we be doing this, is this wise?”

She pointed out in a whispered hush as he was so close to her now. She could smell his cologne, the scent of D&G that she had sorely missed. The alluring hint of vodka on his breath, and the comforting warmth of his touch and his body near her.

“ _Fuck_ Wise..”

He dismissed, leaning forwards and kissing her on the lips, groaning a sexy sound onto her lips. When they pulled away for a split second, Libby opened her eyes, forgetting how wondrous the sensation of the man’s kisses were.

Her lips gaped, and JJ was the same looking deep into her eyes for permission, and he got it.

She linked her arm around his neck and clashed their lips softly together once more, he moaned deep into her throat, hands sliding up one thigh and spreading her legs so he could lie in between them, tugging her by the small of her back up to him so he could slide his hands all over her glorious body, blowing her mind with his touch and kiss. It had been a few months for them both after all…

Libby bit her lip and slid her hands into his hair as his stubbled jaw nuzzled down her neck, sucking and kissing her so the pleasure thrashed right down to her toes. She moaned a wonderful sound that he was determined to make her make all throughout the night.

They parted and threw their arms around each other, hands raking over skin as it was slowly exposed through the steamy snog. First went Libby’s socks, then her jumper so she was just in a vest top that made him sexually hungry as he saw she was wearing a push up bra that certainly did her favours. JJ’s shirt was unbuttoned halfway down his chest, and his belt was hastily un looped and thrown off.

They carried on with the sexy kissing and the saucy foreplay that left them both breathless until came a ….surprising song, on her iPod.

And it was ‘Ridin Dirty’, by Trae.

They smiled at each other, concealing laughs before JJ spoke, voice wounded and raspy from their kissing and sexing each other up.

He raised one eyebrow at her which made her abdomen clench.

“Fancy a Dirty Ride?” He smirked like the love rat he was.

“Mercy fuck?” Libby asked just as sexily.

“Maybe more than one…” He breathed longingly.

Libby bit her lip at his bedroom eyes.

“Have me..” She pleaded.

She nearly yelped as JJ heaved her into his arms so fast she couldn’t comprehend it, he began walking her upstairs to the bedroom, the both of them stripping clothes as they went.

After the two disappeared behind her bedroom door, clumsily slamming it shut however. Libby’s house phone rang, and it went straight to voicemail:

 

 

 

“ _Hey, Hey Libs. It’s Ben. Um. Bit stupid calling at this time, I know. But… I-er. I wanted to talk to you to say sorry… and I wonder if your thinking about me as much as I am, you….”_

 

 

 

 


	8. Rocket's, Hard to Swallow Truths, and Blankets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Insight. Insight. Here there be Insight....

 

 

 

 

“And you _didn’t **F U C K**_ him??” Tessa blurted out loudly.

Libby pursed her lips. Glancing off to the side to see a rather prim looking posh middle aged woman, with tulip red Chanel lipstick and a beige scarf about her shoulders drop a bay leaf and tarragon candle as if it were a Weapon of Mass Destruction, and _‘hhrrmmmmmpph’_ off rather loudly. Prada loafers slapping the wooden floor as she went, the space she left filled by her voiced distain at Tessa’s outburst, and disparagement littering her wake. If there was _ever_ a person alive to force and cause ‘ _hhhhhrrrmmmpphh’_ to become a verb, It was Tessa Massingham. Of course.

“Recalculate choice of phrase please, I’d like to show my face here again, they sell my favourite Lavender Bath Products…”

Libby chided. Looking around herself to see that – thankfully – the surrounding area by the candle section was empty. They were visiting the quaint little homey boutique on Beaufort Street. She and Tessa has arranged for their usual Wednesday morning peruse around cosy little London shops before heading out for lunch. They were in a tiny little rickety old shop that sold everything from candles and light fittings to furniture. It was shabby chic stuff, and _it_ , _and Tessa_ , (and her gutter mouth) was taking her mind off the rather sore state of her life at present…

Libby had felt she needed this Wednesday morning now more than ever, as after their Gallery Party Fiasco (which She was struggling for her reputations own sake not to call it ‘The-Vomit-Enducing-Mr-and-Mrs-Cabbagewank-Engagement-Gallery-Misadventure-of-2012) She had, rather foolishly and hurriedly, and rather slobbenly at the ransom of a large bottle of vodka, elected to engage in a steamy all night session of rampant lovemaking with JJ Field under the sheets. – Only to her surprise to wake up the following morning, still half clothed and vowing to cut her head off due to the hangover she was sporting, which had all the subtlety to it of making her feel like she was wearing a sombrero fashioned out of mercury, to find out that said session of hot sex, had not in fact commenced. It remained no more than a rocket which didn’t leave the launching pad; so to speak…

In a way she was relieved. (A tiny part of her felt cheated, One, as she remembered JJ being _oh so_ **_v-e-r-y_** skilled with his appendages, most specifically his tongue, and his fingers. And Second, due to the fact that her sex life at present was cleaner and as spotless as a Nun’s bedsheets, and as dry as the Gobi Desert in may) although it could go miles to say that the relief only marginally outdistanced the feeling of deceit. She was glad in many ways because although JJ was one spontaneous proposal away from being her perfect man and husband, if she ever felt herself so inclined, she also adored having him as nothing more than a friend, who just happened to flirt a lot, and unfortunately, who had, had the past experience of seeing her naked.

She also had an emotionally and verbally abusive Chef of a friend, and a unfailingly polite, Shakespeare’s number one fangirling, lanky, Etonian actor of a friend, who were convinced she needed to be put on suicide watch, and were keeping hawk like eyes on her at all times, One other Actor Friend slash very nearly made bedmate, now turned sexy-fuck-friend if she ever needed him, plus one estranged best friend who was now organising a wedding, and who was famously abstaining from talking too, or seeing her, since their last exchanged words were swapped with venom and angered tones. Oh, and before she forgot, one _ex_ lying, cheating, two-faced, harpy of a spoilt brat, who happened to be shackling herself to the Cumberbatch clan via wedlock in a years time.

To say her life was a bit of a shambles right now, would be a grossly inappropriate understatement…

Libby picked up a basil and chilli candle, raised it to her nose to inhale the, awful eye watering scent, before discarding it and letting out a long sigh seeing Tessa battle with the newfound information Libby had just disclosed to her.

“You did not, fuck JJ…” She clarified.

Libby winced as another, younger, woman. Slipped past, tugging her toddler away from the foul mouthed woman who was examing a grey striped cushion with a look of pure insensitivity on her face.

Libby rolled her eyes, nudging her elbow at Tessa and frowning.

“Soften your verbs, there are Children present..” Libby whispered harshly.

Tessa gave a wry shrug, one shoulder, pale skin bared as her grey angora jumper had slipped away, and Libby swore she saw a flicker of pride and amusement flash over Tessa’s silvery eyes.

“You, are a fool!” Tess concluded.

Libby smiled.

“Well, I didn’t forsee that reaction coming…”

“No. The only thing that should be coming, is you.”

“Tess…” Libby hissed.

“Listen, you had one prime, fucking handsome, drop dead shag-me-now piece of hot ass in your bed, you were both doped up on drink, both _hot_ and _horny_ , _and both_ of you looking for some form of release, and what better way than to be pounded hard and fast into the headboard like a sailor on leave by a stupidly gorgeous man?” She asked.

Libby was going to miss this shop when they barred her from it…

“You know very well why…”

“Oh, do not let that ass-about-faced friend of yours allow the grass to grow under your feet while you sit waiting for him to listen to you. Red. JJ is drooling like a rabid dog after you, so grow a pair, drop your drawers and shag him!! It’s what you both want really!”

Libby was fighting a smile.

“I can’t just brush off the fact that Ben is engaged, to this woman now. That means, eternal, it means for life. Ever after, he was found his Bride to Be. And she can’t even stand… to put…him.and her future in the same sentence, and that’s, bothering me…” Libby explained.

“You can’t make him listen Red. If he want’s to, he will.” Tess explained quietly.

Libby ground her jaw together, back turned to Tessa as she twiddled with the label on a white table lamp.

“You know JJ’s mad about you..” Tessa diverted in a sing-song voice.

“He is not.” Libby blushed quietly.

“He want to kiiiiiiiisssss you. He want to Huuuuuuggggg you, then strip and Shaaaggggg youuuu.” Tessa hummed quietly.

“Will you drop it?” Libby smiled. “I’m on enough of an emotional roller coaster as it is at the minute.” She begged.

“You need to smile, at least.”

“I am smiling.” Libby said blandly.

“Just…” Tessa finished grumpily.

“If I didn’t smile, with you, dear one, I’d have to cry.” Libby explained.

“Well that’s rude of you.” Tess said, nudging her voluptuous friend deep in the ribs.

“Tess. Just answer me this. Do you see were I’m coming from, at all? With the Ben situation?” Libby asked seriously, the both of them now examining cute bundles of home made ribbon.

Tess’s mouth slunk off to the side as she pursed her lips and her eyes looked glum for a second.

“You not gonna hear what I think of it…” She mumbled quietly.

Libby blinked in good humility.

“In all honesty, I don’t think it will shock me.” She smiled. Making a delicate dig at Tess’s way of Friendship.

Tessa gave her a courage melting look.

“You care, because you do more, than just _care_ for Ben..”

“Elaborate..” Libby asked. Her tongue feeling like wool in her mouth.

“You Love Ben. You don’t want him hurt by Rachel, and you are jealous because she is compromising him behind his back, which is vindictive and cruel. And all you can think as his best friend, is that because you want to be more than that to him, that you would never treat him like that because you are in Love. With.Him.” Tessa explained slowly.

Tess saw that Libby had leant against the doorway which led through to the bedding area of the shop, looking lost so deep in thought.

She then sighed. And shook her head.

“I don’t know. I can’t see anything past being so angry and hurt by him at the moment. It’s hard to imagine Love coming out of that…” Libby explained.

Tess tilted her head.

“Trust me, young grasshopper. I have much wisdom…” Tessa mimicked. Sounding like every 70’s martial arts movie.

Libby spluttered into laughter.

“Ok, Bruce Lee, I’ll take your word…” She winked.

“Ohhh, no smiling or happiness please, it hurts….”

Libby moaned. Clutching onto her stomach. The sad thing was that happiness was a foreign feeling to her now. That’s what was sad.

That was when Tess moved beside her, and Libby saw the unfamiliar sight of a dark purple bruise marking the side of her neck.

Her mouth gaped.

“Tessa Massigham! Is this a Hickey I see before me???” She asked, quietly.

Libby watched as Tessa’s face blanched like a sheet of white paper, and she stood stock still like a startled deer. Hand darting to her neck where Libby was looking at her pale love marked skin.

Before she could even stutter out an excuse. But Libby spoke atop her words.

“No, nonononnonononono! I see now why we have done nothing but talk about my shitty life since we met an hour ago, now I see why! You’re holding out on me, Tell me, about _that_ mark, and then other Mark…” Libby clamoured.

Tessa tried not to look like Libby was pestering her with all the eagerness of a puppy baying after it’s master for a walk.

Tessa groaned.

“I’m your best friend, you secretly want to tell me…” Libby insisted.

“We. Had dinner….” Tess thrw over her shoulder nervously.

“Hey, do you like this blanket? I like it…” Tess added, stroking it.

“Not getting away from me that easily. Tess. That was pathetic.” Libby gabbled.

“Where’d you have Dinner?”

Libby could’ve sworn she heard Tess growl at her.

“Cibo’s.” Tessa let out bluntly.

“Romantic. He paid didn’t he?”

Her head bounced in a tiny nod as she had her back to a grinning Libby.

“He also came in for a coffee, didn’t he. But after some making out said he wanted a second date with you…” Libby smiled, mocking Tessa’s uncomfortableness in a sing song voice.

“How do you know that?” Tess asked in grumpy bewilderment. Which meant Libby’s guess was true.

“Because _he Liiiikkkes, you_ and _Oh,_ how _you like_ him.”

Tessa’s turn to blush now.

“I’ll pay you not to let anyone know this…” Tessa offered quietly

Libby smiled.

“My first born?”

Libby shook her head.

“Come on.” She said, swooping Tessa onwards into bedding.

“You know. I’m almost as dysfunctional as you are at the moment…” Libby smiled.

Tessa raised a brow.

“ _Yeah, yeah._ ” She sighed.

“Until you are dating a guy, who lives with his mother, in a car, then you are not claiming the ‘most dysfunctional life’ trophy from me..” Tessa steeled.

“I’ll settle for you buying me lunch…” Libby winked.

“Anything to shut that grin up…” Tessa smiled.

“Buy the blanket too? It really was nice…” Libby beamed.

“Don’t push it Red. Thin Ice.” Tessa winked back.

 

 

 

 

 

 

~

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When Libby stumbled back through her front door that evening, she found – a rather plump white envelope propped up against her front door.

She scooped down to pick it up, stooping with her newly purchased bag with the wool blanket inside, feeling the coarse and expensive stationary glide under her fingers. After she unlocked the door and let herself in, throwing the shopping on the counter and clicking the kettle on, Walked past her phone on the hallway table, which was still flashing with the one message, a telephone call from Benedict. She found it the morning after hers and JJ's failed shag fest, strobing away on her answerphone. She didn't have the heart to answer it. Yet, she chided herself to call him when she listened to the message every day, numerous times. She didn't have the courage to pick up the phone and call. And every time she did manage to work up the nerve, it dissipated like smoke curling into the air. She couldn't do it.

After she stood staring at the thick envelope, before she sighed angrily with her silly self, tearing across the kitchen, she grabbed and tore it open and sated her curiosity. And immediately found she wanted to revoke that inquisitiveness and brief moment of joy.

 

 

_Libby Turner,_

_You are hereby cordially invited to celebrate the engagement of;_

_Benedict Cumberbatch and Rachel Simmons,_

_To join friends and family as they celebrate and toast their engagement, The party is to be held at the Jazz Room in Leicester Square, on the 28 th September…._

And one thought went through Libby’s head;

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fuck. 


	9. Don't Blame It On Me....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :(

 

 

 

Libby had never wanted to be anywhere less in her entire life.

Of course, she had been ensconced in a room full of people she knew and adored. Already circling the room in her little black velvet dress (as technically, she was in mourning) She had already bumped into Wanda and Timothy, Ben’s lovely parent’s who adored her, and if the vibe she was getting behind their empty twinkling smiles was anything to go by, they weren’t too keen on Rachel either. They had very abruptly, yet subtly, changed the subject from Ben’s to-be-bride to Libby’s new book. They always followed her ‘spetacularly talented’ illustrations with vigour. So much so, that in Libby’s last book, she had even used Wanda and Timothy’s garden as her muse of fire to paint a watercolour scene of it in her book, at their furiously persistent insistance. They were wonderful in laws, Libby thought. Sadness weighed down in her gut to think of them being wasted on Rachel as loving and very doting in-laws. So, Libby sucessfully managed to keep her mind off their son as she clutched her glass of white wine and conversed easily and lovingly with Wanda, as Tim nipped off to the loo. (at Wanda’s instruction that his bow tie needed straightening) But as she eventually decided to get a top up, she felt she had to abandon Wanda and start paying attention to the fact that dissapearing under Ben or Rachel’s radar – at their own celebration – would be harder than she originally intended. _Regrettably_

She cursed inwardly at that thought, having the barman pour her a hefty gallon of white wine. Downing the chilled stuff quickly, swallowing it down as she savoured the sweet crisp aftertaste with huge gulps having moistened her throat. The bartender raised a brow, Libby sighed, glum face confirming the exact thought he was expressing with that arched brow.

She made a despondent face back to him. Sliding her empty glass forwards again. of which she had drained in under 20 seconds. Her face seemed to say:

_‘Yes. I’m miserable and drinking alone. Here. At this overfluffed excuse of a celebratory engagement party, where the bride hates my previous best friend, the groom. And yes, I am aware I am in my early thirties and am here by myself, with no boyfriend and nothing but stale chinese waiting for me in my fridge at home. And so what if the most exciting thing in my life in the minute is the fact I have the complete season of ‘Upstairs, Downstairs’ taped on DVD? What of it?’_

And it suddenly went as dry as sandpaper as she saw a face that she was trying so desperately to cower away from metres away shaking hands and hugging his friends. Libby sighed, downing half a glass until her surroudings started to feel better. – she had a feeling she’d eventually need a vat of wine to make this atmosphere, and present company therafter included, palatable. By the end of the night, she had a feeling that her bloodstream would consist more of shardonnay rather than blood cells.

She dived back into her wine glass again. Stomach twisting like a wet flannel being wrung out dry, as Ben’s eyes caught her own. She turned and suddenly pretended to be very interested in the lines of bottles behind the bar. The barman who was drying a glass down the other end of the bar still deciding that she was a fascinating woman to watch. As if her misery was amusement. Libby scoffed at the notion. Suddenly feeling vaguely like she was his greatest source of entertainment for the evening. And that in itself was both sad and depressing thing all rolled into one.

 _I know, mate._ She thought, _Usually, I’m not the gloomy bugger at the bar, but this once, I think the vacancy of miserable sod needs to be filled. And who fills the occupation of dejected barstool fodder better than I?_

So, again. She attempted to allieviate herself of her misery. Sipping wine and just praying Ben would have far too many people to see to bother addressing her. After all, the room was nearly busily chock full of both Ben and Rachel’s family and close friends. (Libby winced a bit at the term ‘close’ being used a little too loosely there, She felt she hardly knew Ben anymore) She also felt that the ratio of population in the room was leaning more towards Ben’s relatives and companions, rather than Rachel’s, clearly she hadn’t wanted many friends here, and as far as Libby knew, her parents were, one, singular parent ~~(s)~~ and two, lived far off in some other country and hadn’t kept in contact with the woman for many years. So far the only people she didn’t recognize, of whom she assumed were Rachel’s fellow fashionista friends who worked with her at Vera Wang. She had been confronted by the small gaggle of men and women (well, all women if she counted the one incredibly gay man among them as a woman) who flapped his hands and exclaimed loudly his adoration for Libby’s Zuhair Murad cocktail dress, and silver Tom Ford strappy heels with gold padlocks on them. To which Libby simply smiled and skirted around them with a polite smile. Not wishing to be _le bitch_ , but she had needed a drink rather badly at that point to numb her senses. And the glass of wine was doing the trick just nicely until she felt a familiar presence loitering behind her, cutting a swathe through the crowd to get to her.

She sighed, but. In hindsight. She should have seen it coming, it was his celebration after all, and as there were empty seats surrounding her, she wasn’t a tough one to single out. She just wished she had more alcohol circulating in her bloodstream to then engage in this painful confrontation once again…

Once Ben had spotted her through the packed room of people. He couldn’t shake the thought of her off. He found his head leaning to one side to continue catching a glimpse of her as she had her back to him, slurping on a glass of wine all by herself. Looking as dejected and as lonely as ever. But, no less as lovely. She always looked lovely. Rachel did too, but her looks were the end result was a day of preening, fussing, hairdressing appointments, and skilled beauticians to finally give her the smouldering make up and fantastic hair. Libby, he knew with confidence, would’ve plucked a dress at random, spent 20 minutes on her hair and makeup, and still walk out of the house looking priceless and even more stunning than the day of work it took Rachel to get there. He had, and _always_ would love that about her. And if he knew her at all, she had also probably spent ages in the bath too, with her favourite lavender soak, singing badly away to whatever crappy 70’s disco hit was inhabiting her head that day. The thought made him smile, he hadn’t smiled like that for nay on six months now. But the sight of his familiar redhead made his body relax, like an elastic band after being pulled tight for so many months. He let go of all his tension that was chipping away his shoulders. And dammit all, it felt good. He slowly made his way over, seeing Libby’s figure from behind was no less compromised by the nice and simply elegant black dress she wore. It swept low on her back, so he could see the customary ‘Lucky’ tattoo and the black inked swallows leading up her shoulderblades, of which took flighty movement when her blades rippled underneath her skin. He sighed slightly as one of Rachel’s song choices that she had picked to play out over the sound system bounced to life. It was “Could You Be Loved” By Bob Marley and the Whalers. Personally, it wasn’t his taste, reggae was too repetitive for him. But he saw Libby smile lightly and sway to it, tapping her fingers on the bar to the beat. As she placed her glass down and sighed, he got to her.

“Hello You…”

She turned and gave him what could nearly be constituted as a shy smile. And was that something she was ever not.

“Hey Ben.” She blinked with bland tones backing her voice.

He stood, looking at her, taking in the sight of his achingly pretty friend that he had missed. The red curls, the long fan of lashes that made her utterly disastrusly stunning, and the lovely lips that made his mouth dry to look at. And those _eyes_ , he had missed those eyes. Like someone had plucked two priceless sapphires from a museum case somewhere and substituted them for her orbs. Right then he hated how those wonderful things were looking at him with hinted sadness.

So he asked a question to which he knew the answer would be flavourless.

“How have you been?” He rasped.

“I’ve. Been _ok_.”

She supplemented, clearly wanting to substitute ‘Been ok’ with something else. But she didn’t, and if they hadn’t have fallen out, and there weren’t wounds between them, then, maybe she would have told him.

“You? Trapped under wedding plans I take it…” She asked with civility.

He smiled and nodded. Turning round to see said fiancé in her flawless and eye wateringly expensive maroon lace westwood dress and sky high platform heels that he had to help her totter round in. and for the first time in his life, he wanted to look at the woman in front of him more as he saw Rachel guffaw with her small gaggle of work friends.

“Yes. Rachel’s got them locked down airtight.”

He smiled with good hunour. But, to Libby that sounded more like a criticism than anything else.

“Well. I bet they’ll be wonderful in the end.”

Libby tried to boost spirits. But she had a feeling their big day would be reserved for the bride only.

The day would be more about how many pages it could take up in ‘Hello’ rather than a testement to the couple to be wedded, and their love for each other. Libby couldn’t even begin to explain how awful she found that notion.

Because Ben didn’t _deserve_ that.

And No silly argument, poisoned words, or scratchy shared temprements would ever warrant Ben deserving that. Nothing could ever convince her that he warranted otherwise.

“I’m sure.”

Ben smiled, hands in his pockets as he scuffed his shoes on the floor. Looking like a bashful teen.

“Drink?” Libby asked, pointing to the bar behind her.

Ben gave a meagre smile as his decline.

“I have to make the rounds…” He offered the viable excuse.

Libby nodded in understanding.

“I’ll see you later then.” She summarised.

Ben gave a little weak “Yeah.” Before he was swallowed up into the crowds in the room, ‘Hello’-ing and greeting as he went.

Libby sat back down as he turned away. Sighing and letting all her breath leave her lungs like it was toxic, suddenly her ribs felt too big for her body. Would every conversation she would ever have with him now feel like a battle? And her small wry smile was gone from her face like it had dissolved.

She slumped back down onto her seat. Seeing that her glass of wine wasn’t where she left it, But rather that the Barman had elected to refill it when her head was turned. It glistened to the brim with the wonderful very chilled taupé coloured wine as it was placed back in front of her. And the barman gave her yet another empathetic look.

“I broke up with someone recently too.”

He shared, steering the glass within her reach. Making a sympathetic face to her miserable one. She smiled, looking down, accepting it with a sincere ‘Thank-you’, sipping at it once more.

She didn’t even have the gall to tell him it was nothing like that. But when she thought about it, it had all the similarity of a break up. She certainly felt fragmented…

And that was where she stayed long into the night, slowly people who she knew made themselves known, she shared a conversation with the lovely Hattie and James Rhodes the Pianist, Ben’s _still_ best friend. She even had a short snippet of a chat with Stephen Fry, who adored her, and her books, and always made a point of telling her she was riveting company. Also  she even ended up doing a couple of shots with Martin. Who really was a bad influence on her. She was happy to see Hiddleston weave through the crowd at twenty to ten to join her. She could use a hug and a friendly face to confide in. One who knew how she truly felt about this catastrophe of an evening.

“A woman as lovely and stunning as you shouldn’t drink alone, my darling.”

Tom assuaded as he got to her and enveloped her in a comfy hug that she gladly welcomed. He ordered three fingers of Jameson on the rocks. And she, a lemonade to offset the fuzziness riding on her bloodstream. She didn’t even feel drunk, she still felt numb.

“I know. I’ve reached an all new low, even the Barman thought I was a miserable bugger.” Libby admitted.

“You know its true when random strangers are announcing it to your face.” She grumped.

She then tugged on his elbow to make him sit down next to her on the empty stool.

Miserable Bugger Club, Party of two, she thought.

“Come on, please join me, I beg you. I don’t want to have to tell the bartender the reason I look so unhappy is that the samaritans are engaged.” She japed.

Tom smiled, and slid in next to her. accepting his tumbler of drink.

“Well, my dear, your lovely face is looking a little bit morose…” Tom spoke softly.

“Oh, I know.”

“Have you talked to, _him_ , yet?” He asked with cautiousness.

Libby nodded.

“Yeah. And it held all the appeal of eating a raw cactus.” Libby mumbled.

“Still not good?”

“Still painful. I hope that passes. Maybe then, I’ll feel normal.” She hoped, vaguely.

“Time heals all wounds. Lucky. You know that.” Tom inspired.

Libby huffed. He was right. She just wasn’t sure if the time to heal would eventualy lead to more distance between her and the man she had once called her best friend since University. It felt like her and Ben had been friends since the big bang. And now. Well…

She drunk more lemonade to help herself forget about it.

Little did she know that her night was about to get, so very much worse. If she thought she had hit bottom at this point, it was a sweet dream compared to the nightmare that was destined to unfold.

Libby heard the fast totter of dainty clacky heels before she saw Rachel.

Next thing she knew, she was a manicured and gripping her upper arm, the scarlet nails nearly digging into her skin.

She turned her head quickly, to see Ben’s panicky looking fiancé blanch behind her with worry.

“I need a word..” She gabbled quickly.

Libby eyes just had enough time to flicker across to Tom with flashing worry, and she saw him return the tiny stroke of concern in his eyes, before she was standing on her feet and being tugged away.

Rachel led her to an empty and fairly quiet corridoor by the coat check, where the phone was bracketed to the wall, and the lighting was stark red bulbs that made everything tinted red and black shadows.

Rachel licked her lips, watching Ben across the room laughing with family.

“I’ve done something _bad. Something so bad_.” She said in a hush.

“What?”

Libby said, meaning it as a statement calling into question why she was being told this, and not any of Rachel’s fashiony gal-pals.

“I Cheated.” She burst out.

Libby’s world came crumbling down with just two words.

“And, it wasn’t just a one time thing, Paolo. My Yoga Instructor, he’s a sunglass model too. I think I love him, and he says he wants me to elope with him. It started off as nothing serious, just an itch to scratch, but now, I really do love him. I’ve been seeing him behind Ben’s back and I don’t know what to do..” She explained.

Very word was like an atom bomb to Libby. It just kept on detonating in her head.

_Cheated, Love, Elope, Cheated, Love, Elope_

Libby found words bubbling up out her throat before her brain could rationalize them.

“What, do you want me to say, Rachel? Ben’s. I can’t even….” She stuttered. Feeling like she had just been stabbed.

“Help me” Rachel pleaded. Her face all big wide doe eyes and worry.

Libby scoffed.

“No.”

She stubbornly ground out. Still trying to wrap her head around this.

“Enough. Rachel. I can’t stand here and rationalize this, I can’t even digest it. Just….”

Libby turned to walk away, not even looking at her just as Fine crystal trilled, and all focus was now centred on Ben who stood on the mini raised platform near the foyer.

“Rachel? A.k.a Mrs Cumberbatch, You are needed..”

He smiled meakly, spotting her through the crowd.

Libby let Rachel slip away. She didn’t even watch her go. She ignored whatever it was that Ben was talking about, the low murmur of his baritone accompanying the background buzz as the music was killed and she made her way back to Tom at the bar.

He spotted her and began to talk as she resumed her spot next to him.

“Hey, you-“ One look at her face cut him off.

She grabbed the remainder of his drink and swallowed it down. She hated whiskey but she needed a hit of something before she _hit_ Rachel. She thought a sip of whiskey would be far more ‘Tom-approved-friendly’ rather than a pack _or three_ of cigarettes, or valium even.

“Rachel’s seeing someone else.” Libby explained with lacklustre, and flat tones.

Tom blinked, and his mouth gaped. He could do little else.

“Cheating?” He asked.

Libby nodded.

“With her Yoga Instructor.” She added glumly.

They both turned to see Ben chat lovingly to the crowd making a speech, with Rachel tugged close to his side, tucked under his arm as she smiled angelically.

“…So if you could all raise your glasses to Rachel. My lovely Bride…”

Glasses raised and the sick ironic phrase of ‘To Rachel’ repeated like a mantra throughout the room. Neither Tom, nor Libby’s glass left the bar.

“I have to tell him.” She said softly.

“Libs..” Tom tried to interject.

But she was off, the crowd was dispersing after Ben’s lovely little speech. And Libby would never be more grateful than to see Ben left on his own by the stereo, readjusting the music, as Rachel had been swept away by god only knows whom. All Libby knew was that she didn’t care. She just needed Ben alone, Just for a second.

And when she got to him, her stomach was churning, and she was petty sure she was just nerves on legs.

“I need to talk to you. In private..” Libby steeled. Feeling weaker than she sounded.

Ben turned and regarded her with worry, placing his champagne down and following her to a quiet corner.

Libby turned and wet her lips, suddenly his honest unphazeable face nearly made her reconsider. But she had too much respect for him to not tell him of the barbarism of Rachel’s actions.

“Listen, Rachel just pulled me aside, and she told me something that I really think you need to hear. I can’t even begin to know how I’m going to explain this to you, but she just told me something so bad and- “

In thirty seconds his face had gone from concerned, to thundrous. His eyes poured venom at her, and his stance was that of boredomn and fatigue. Like he had heard this a thousand times before. That expression made her falter.

“Oh not this **_shit_ **_again._ ” He growled.

Libby gaped her mouth and shook her head. Tears amassing in her eyes.

“No! Ben! You have to listen to me! Please, She….”

Before she could say another syllable, She found that Ben’s hand viced across her elbow, so much so his grip hurt her, and she found he was tugging – leading – her outside. She pulled her harshly through the door and out into the night lit street, dazed with orange streetlight that doused both figures. Both clad in black. She in her LBD, and him in his Black suit with his hunter green shirt. The cool night welcomed them both. But Ben’s anger was nearly audible in the air about him. The air was stiff with his fired up temper.

He stumbled Libby out so viscously and let go of his hold on her, so much so, and with so much brute force that she stumbled in her heels.

“Just. STOP IT!” He yelled. Abruptly.

The vein in his neck was popping, his jaw was clenched, and his eyes looked about ready to slaughter her.

Libby couldn’t even fight him back. She was too upset and silenced by his fury.

“Stop, this sick, obsession you have with trying to make me hate Rachel. I don’t know what problems you have with her, but get the FUCK over it. She is my wife, and next year, we will be married. Just because you are a sad lonely spinster who is incapable of having male friends without jumping into bed with them after having known them for all of five minutes, doesn’t mean you have to try and sabotage what me and Rachel have, all just because you are a jealous bitch, with barely a lovelife and a barely professional career to keep you sane. I mean, I’m surprised you even made it this far, what was it? Jealousy? You can’t stand that I actually have a job that is rewarding or, successful? Or one that I’m actaully good at? Or maybe you’re just bullshitting all of this bollocks because you’re scared of dying alone as an old maid. Who no one will remember because you spend far too much time butting into other peoples problems and lives, that it’s physically impossible for you to mind your own fucking business! Because whatever it is! I don’t give a shit, just leave me, and my wife to be, out of your fucking shitty problems and sad shabby excuse for a life. I suggest you go home, hole up in your big expensive house, and call JJ or Tom round to shag you to relieve a bit of tension or boredom. God knows someone needs to knock that stick out of your fucking ass and depose you from this high superior station of yours. I’m sure your other friends have time to listen to why your life is so horrible, so please, go and bother them instead and leave. _me.the.fuck.alone_!” He snarled.

For a moment between them. Possibly the longest she had ever had to endure, she found her bravery again.

Libby Stood, Stock still. Tears gathering like rain clouds across her blue eyes. Her lungs suddenly felt redundant, and all she wanted to do was crumple into a deflated sack of human skin like burning paper. But she couldn't. She had to stand there and let Benedict's hurtful words wash over her.

She tried so hard to find a shred of her best friend stood in the stranger that was snarling venomous words at her.

But she couldn't. Not at all. Not even a miniscule hint. And that, was the single saddest thing of all. She walked forwards and thrust her wedding gift into Ben's hands. Taking it from her clutch and slapping it to his chest as she willed tears not to start leaking from her eyes.

"You won’t see me at the wedding." She steeled with tears sliding down her cheeks.

"....Or ever again for that matter."

She turned to walk away, finally letting the first tear fall. But, like the first drop of rain from a storming sky, many more were sure to follow it.

Ben watched her walk away. Feeling nothing but anger rattling his veins like fire. – The remorse, for him, would come later.

As everyone inside drank merrily, and toasted to Ben’s upcoming marriage. There were thre individuals who were caught up in this little web of a game Rachel Simmons was playing. And as a result, Libby was taken as the first casualty. In what world was that fair?

That was what she thought as she walked away. But one concerned friend just knew from her body language, that she was nowhere near ok.

Tom scattered out of the door, crossing the threshold just as Ben returned to cross back inside the huge glass door, into the warmth, as Tom ventured into the cold.

“Oh, yeah. Just as I thought. _Prince charming_ off to rescue the _Damsel_.” Ben spat nastily.

Tom didn’t even hesitate. But Ben felt the need to step away as the look in his eyes could've taken down someone twice his size, there was so much toxicity directed at Ben. That was the dangerous glare that had made itself known on screen via Loki, or in Coriolanus. But in real life, it was so much more unsettlingly terrifying. 

“Why don’t you go and have another drink, _Ben_.”

Tom hissed. Fists clenched as he slipped past the bastard who had clearly just devastated Libby with whatever he had said to her.

Had Ben not been so tipsy, he would’ve felt the full flood of guilt wash over him at Tom’s rage.

As it was, he just watched his other, former, best friend sprint after Libby.

Ben turned back around and wandered inside, seeing everyone around him happy. Only then did he truly comprehend the weight of his nasty words to Libby.

His head sunk down into his hands as he thought.

 

_‘My God, What have I just Done?’_

 

 

 

 

~

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tears. That was all she could see, and all she could register.

Tears and numbness.

She knew it was petty, juvenile, hurt. But she still cried anyway. So much so, as she paused at the Taxi rank, one hand outstretched, summoning a cab, sniffing and stemming the flow of tears that were sure to be devastating her make up, she managed to catch the attention for a cabbie who was just searching for one last fare before calling it a night.

“Where to love?”

He asked, seeing the young woman try and hide her grief as she spoke on a worn wobbily, tear wracked voice to give her address.

“Hobury Street please, Hampton Court Place.”

She asked, eyes looking up for a split second before going to the floor again.

Her eyes were dewy and rubbed red raw with tears

“Hospitals Free of charge, you know, love.”

The cabbie said kindly, handing her a clean tissue through the open window.

Libby took it gladly. Before she heard a voice behind her yell her name.

She turned to see Tom sprint full pelt to her. And the sight of which, her friend coming to soothe her. Made a sob erupt from her throat.

As Tom got to her, she was nearly winded as he crushed her into a hug, one hand holding the back of her head, and the other pressed to her back as she really let the tears rain down onto his pristine D&G suit jacket shoulder. And finally, the words she never wanted to let loose, were spilling from her mouth as easily as she would let out breath.

 

“Oh god. I love him. Tom. I really Love him…I Love Him.” She sobbed.

 

 

~


	10. 5am, and Aftershocks...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More to come, but savour this little snippet for now...

 

 

 

Safe to say, The Turner household wasn’t singing with happiness from the rafters when Libby got home. In fact, it was dark and silent. Libby hated silence. If she was ever alone, she would have music playing somewhere within the vicinity of whichever room she happened to be in. But not tonight. Tonight, the silence mourned the passing of an old friend – so to speak. The house was dark, cold, but not empty. Although it felt like it.

And that was one thing Libby’s house _never_ was.

Tom had insisted on staying with her. Libby inwardly found a protest fighting against that. She felt like saying he needn’t because he wouldn’t have to worry about finding her hanging from her light fitting the following morning. Her ego wasn’t as fragile as that, but as she found her heart slowly collapsing in on itself, that statement could be contradicted. As a result her fight was quickly lost against him.

And now, here they both were. Libby was in her bed, in her pyjamas which she pulled on, clothes having been stepped out of, and as Tom had helpfully manouvred her out of them, stay laid on the floor by her bed. She was curled up under her duvet, with Tom by her side stroking her hair as she had her back to him.

She was still crying. Not sobbing like she was earlier. They were silent, empty tears. Tears devoid of noise or anger. Just unimportant tears of sadness.

And that was what she was to the man she loved. Nothing. Nothing but an insignificance, an annoyance. A meddling friend who he never wanted to see again. He had made that much clear. And all that kept happening when she closed her eyes was that baritone voice snarling hatred at her. and another tear would burst form her eye, ribbon down her cheek – following the path that many before it had taken. And it would join the damp reservoired patch on her pillow.

“You’re thinking about him still aren’t you?” Tom asked. Hand stroking red curls back from the smooth skin of her forehead.

“How can I not.” She answered cryptically.

“Libby. You know it’s not him talking.”

“Not trying to convince me it was an evil doppelganger, are you?” Libby asked drearily.

“Not at all.” Tom soothed, arm cupping her soft shoulder and sliding his huge palm down the peachy smooth skin of her upper arm.

“I’m not trying to justify his behavior, at all. What he said was despicable, but, I think there may be something he’s not telling us about his and Rachels relationship. I mean, we’ve both met the woman and whilst she may have good points, we can’t know what shes truly like.” Tom suggested.

And that made sense to Libby. It did. But she didn’t want to think about that right now. She didn’t want to think about _… Him_. About Rachel. About the beautiful wedding they would have in the wonderful large country church in shropshire, then the elegantly large country estate of Shakenhurst Hall was the venue for the Reception. She ignored the stabbing pain that daggered her heart when she thought about the fact that if She and _him_ , were talking, then she would have been asked to have been his best man. She would worn a tux shirt with a black tie and heels. She would’ve sat at the top table and given he traditional slandering rant that was the best man’s toast. But, now. _Oh, now…._

All she wanted to do was wallow. Sit at home, in her bed, with the lights off and no background noise to distract her from the misery.

She let a big sigh shake her lungs in an attempt to offload some of that swirling wretchedness that was baring down on her body like a fever. But it didn’t work. And dammnit all. She wanted it to work.

This caused another flurry of tears…

Which in turn caused Tom to bury his face in her coconut scented hair and pull her close by tucking an arm about her and really holding her tight.

And that’s the way they fell asleep that night. And even though Libby loved the fact she had Tom here for comforts sake, but, aside from that,

 

 

she didn't think she had _ever_ felt more alone.

 

 

 


	11. Une Petite Notette from Le Author...

 

 

 

 

Hello all, just a little note to say that I am working on the next chapter, it's just coming along slowly. Please be patient with me! I haven't forgotten you lovely lot, or this story. Just a tad of writers blocks is all! But more angst coming your way from Le punk in Le docs soon! I promise!

 

X

 

lovelovelovelove<3


	12. Better Do Better Than That...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mood for this chapter - "Better do Better" by Hard-Fi, an authors recommendation...

 

 

She awoke the next day, peering over the clock and not the least bit alarmed to find out that it was 11:46am. Her emotively turbulent evening had drained her of life and energy, sapped away her usually do-good spirit. She sat up in bed away from Tom’s hold to see that it was a particularly bland and insipid day in london, foggy grey clouds ready to spit rain miserably at the city, she didn’t feel refreshed, she realised as she sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, she felt more tired, if there was ever a time when she felt truly rotten, it was due to no disastrous hangover she could remember having, no, this moment far outweighed any feeling of wretchedness she had ever felt in her life. She dragged a slow hand through her knotted red curls, standing and trudging wearily into the bathroom. She avoided the mirror. Mainly because she knew exactly what would greet her in the reflection, the sad lonely face of the pathetic spinster, make up smudged under her tear dribbled eyes, hair a red tangled mess, and red puffy bags weighing down like grey hammocks under her eyes.

She crossed to her large clawfoot bathtub, and opened the taps to let hot steamy water pour in and fill the bath, she swirled some aromatic lavender foam into the frothing mass of water which circled scented steam lazily into the air. She sat on the closed toilet lid, watching and waiting for it to rise high near the lip of the edge, before turning it of. Tugging off her clothes and leaving them in a trail behind her, she quickly dropped her naked self under the water, and sank right under to wet her hair, letting herself feel nothing but the harsh sting of the hot water that seized her. she stayed under for a moment or two, before bursting back out, taking a deep breath and slumping against the edge, tucking her wet hair behind her ears, and reaching for the packet of cigarettes she had placed on a stool within arms reach. She put one between her full wet lips and lit it. Leaning back as she inhaled the first sinful mouthful of smoke, exhaling with a soft moan.

“You look like one of those models in a French perfume advert…” Came a soft and friendly drawl from the doorway.

Libby didn’t look round at tom, she just softly smiled and inhaled another lungful of stuff that could kill her. She adored him to the moon and back for not saying anything, and berating her about the disgusting habit.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t breathe out a little: “And I know I con’t need to tell you those things are bad, especially for _you_ , Lucky.”

She found that a sleep ruffled Tom was sat safely away, so he couldn’t see any of her wobbly bits, safely far away on the closed toilet lid so that he had no visual access.

“Its an ugly metaphor, Tom.”

She explained. Tom watched a bead of water drop down her face and slide off her beautifully hurting face. Libby dared to let her eyes slip over to her friend, with his hair tossed about the place, gingery stubble speckled across his jaw, kind blue eyes looking alive and jovial, like two clear twin blue pools of clarity. He had slept in what he wore yesterday, so he now sported a rumpled blue shirt and wrinkled black dress trousers. Usually she would have smiled at the fact he was wearing the “Loki” socks she brought for his birthday. But today, she would give him no smile. Just, a few silent tears and gentle hushed words.

“You need to eat something.” He suggested.

“Not hungry.” She held out.

“A drink then?” He offered.

“I’m not thirsty..” She replied.

He made his stubborn insistant face that made him look like a mother hen clucking over their chick.

“Darling, I can’t let you waste away to nothing..”

“Well. You don’t need too. According to Ben, I am that already. _Nothing_.” She sniffed.

Tom tilted his head, obviously wanting to defend Ben’s words with some reason as to why they were said.

“He said it Tom. He thought that, and he said it. And, I…” The words got lost in her throat.

She shuffled in awkward silence in the bath as Tom looked at her

“I know.”

“Well. Libs, Darling, He’s.. wrong.”

“I Hope so.” She said gently with misery.

“I’m telling you I _know_ so..” He insisted.

“Well. He’s right about one thing. My heart certainly is being a pathetic creature of volatility at the moment.”

She hushed. Dragging a hand through her wet cold hair.

She looked over at Tom who smiled lightly.

Libby thought for a moment.

“Have you ever had yours broken?”

She asked, holding her cigarette in one hand, dangling it between her fingers. Slowly letting the last of it burn away.

“Yes. You. In University.”

She chuckled humourlessly.

“Thomas, I most certainly did not break your heart. One, because we parted as we didn’t know we were both moving away to London. And two, because when we broke up, it was calmly over dinner, and we’ve been friends ever since.” She stated.

“It was the closest thing to heartbreak I’ve ever had.” He defended.

“It can’t be.”

“I assure you. Loosing you, as a lover, or friend, _was p_ aramount to heartbreak _, Lucky_.”

Libby remained silent, soaking up his words. Using her ciggy holding hand to scratch an itch on her dewy forehead.

“And in that case, Ben’s in for a nasty shock when he realises..” Tom suggested.

“He has Rachel now, He doesn’t need me…”

Libby held out. Extinguishing her ciggarette in the ashtray that Tom slid closer to her atop the stool.

“Libby, don’t you dare. You know you’re a million times the woman she is.” Tom pressed.

She stayed silent, sheepishly not meeting his gaze.

“Where else is Ben going to find someone who would clear their schedule to go with him to every single bad audition when he started out? Is he going to find someone who will stay up til 6am, helping him to learn lines and mend holes in his costume when he’s so nervous and excited that he can’t even eat? And I highly doubt Rachel will be the one sat front row centre opening night of _any_ play or movie he’s starring in. My darling, Rachel is a horrible scheming woman, who is obviously jealous of what Friendship you and Ben have..”

“ _Had_.” Libby thought glumly to herself.

“…And the only way she could think to devastate it, was to blindside you, and ostricize you from Ben’s eyes. Clearly she couldn’t deal with how wonderful you are.”

she nodded. 

"Clearly"

Libby thought for a moment.

“I was never going to be involved in that wedding, was I?”

Tom looked sheepish and guilty for a second.

“She had you out of it from the very beginning. Despite Ben’s Best efforts.”

Tom muttered quietly With truth. 

“No black tux and tie. No top table. No best man speech. No best man. And now, No Ben..”

Libby thought aloud.

It was silent for a second as the shifted water around by wiggling her toes down the other end of the bath.

 _Wow. This month is turning out to be a shit one,_ Libby thought... 

“You know, I’m really beginning to hate that Odious Bitch.” Libby joked blandly.

Tom smiled.

“Now theres that fiesty wit we men fall prey to so easily.” He winked

Libby smiled lightly. Even if it felt foreign. It was still something to feel…

She sighed.

“What about you?” she asked him.

“What about me?” he answered.

“Whose side are you on?” she probed.

“I have to pick a side?” he asked dubiously.

Libby tilted her head.

“I, may have said a short little something to him yesterday about whose side I was going to take.” Tom hinted.

Libby suddenly realised how petty she sounded.

“But I suppose despite mine and _his_ difficulties, I can’t ask you to give up one of your best friends, Tom. No matter how much I can’t, stand _him_ , at the minute.”

“Now that’s one of the things I love about you.” Tom added.

Libby was quiet for a second. Just wishing she could love herself as much as Tom did at the minute.

“Now, about something to drink or eat?” Tom urged.

“Is 12 too early for something stronger than tea?”

Tom fought his bone bred revulsion to laquering his friend up at midday. But, he supposed when needs must…

“We’ll _start_ with tea and work up from there…” He sighed sternly. Smiling only lightly.

“Theres stuff in the fridge if you need food…” Libby pointed out.

“Its not me who needs feeding..” Tom interjected as he walked back across her bathroom.

But he paused, stood in the centre of her bathroom. Head cocked to one side, leaning to the left as he listened out for something in her quiet house. Libby couldn’t hear anything save for the odd traffic beeping as is rushed by, the low purr of a london cab, or the fluttering tweet of a bird in her garden. She remembered fondly how, one time at Uni she was quietly tucking into her squirrelled away stash of chocolate fudge cake from the fridge, and she barely even rustled the packaging before Tom suddenly materialized in the doorway behind her and insisted adamantly that they share it. Libby swore the man had dog ears.

But then she heard it too, the low rattle of a knock tapping across her front door.

“I’ll get it.”

Tom said coolly as he was already halfway down the stairs.

Libby huffed. She supposed she needed to take Tom’s advice, and atleast drink something. But as she heard Tom speak from downstairs with a tone that was less than displeased, she found she was pulling herself out of the bath, and wrapping the only thing she had in her bathroom around herself – a flimsy blue silk short dressing gown. Her hair still wet, eyes still red, and black make up still weeping halfway down her cheeks, she bounded downstairs.

 

~

 

From the second Tom swung the door inwards, not bothering to peek through the shadowed silhouette to see just _who_ , the intruder was. When he did see, he wanted to slam the door shut straight in Ben’s face.

It was obvious that the first reaction on the man’s face was a hint of surprise and then immediate albeit slight, irritation. But he was too much of a gentleman to let the latter show.

“Tom.”

Ben greeted in a stiff and mild approach.

“What are you doing here, Ben?”

Tom asked drily.

Ben swallowed. Hating the fact that there were now bridges to be mended between their friendship.

“Please can I come in?”

Ben asked in a respectful, yet tense mutter.

“I don’t think that’s a very good idea, actually.”

Tom bristled. Eyes distant and unfriendly. Two things one would never have associated with the polite, even tempered man.

“Tom, Look. I…”

Ben’s words died a swift and painless death in his throat. At the point of which Libby appeared, stopping abruptly at the base of her stairs. She looked as heart stoppingly lovely, as she always did. But his heart couldn’t take the fact that she was pained and broken because of the things he had said and done. Her hair was wet and dripping, leaving dark rivulets down her silk gown which was sinched tight around her waist, showing off her figure to the best of all its wonderful curvy abilities. She still had some black eye make up leaking from under her puffy red eyes, which only made them seem all the more like blue sponges which soaked up the pain she’d gone through.

She looked lovely, but destroyed all at the same time.

She swallowed, shrinking down into herself self-consciously. Awkwardly averting her eyes to the floor as she stood looking across at him.

“Libs.”

Ben spoke in a hush, making an attempt to move past Tom. Who, begrudgingly, (after looking back to Libby before Ben even took a step forwards, the little nod from her indicating it was ok) let his friend squeeze past him and into her house.

She didn’t dare meet his eyes.

“Look, I know last night I said some awful, stupid things.” He began.

Tom stood by her lounge doorway, crossing his arms and looking impatient.

She sniffed, looking at him before she found focus on the lovely spot of floor near her feet again.

“Yes. You did.” She clarified.

“Look. I just really want you to forgive me. I, wasn’t thinking clearly… I”

He was halted in his words again as Libby slowly raised her eyes to look at him.

“You think all I want is a ‘sorry’ from you because of what you said to me last night?”

She asked with a deadly look on her previously hurt features.

Ben was stumped there.

“Yes. I came to apologize for what I said….” Ben offered again.

Libbys eyes were cold.

“I couldn’t give less of a toss about that, Ben. You think that’s why I’m like this? That is why I’ve started smoking again, why I nearly slept with one of my best friends for a mere distraction? Why I can’t seem to shake off this fucking misery that follows me around _bloody_ , everywhere I go! Are you really so short sighted that you think a couple of nasty drunken words sneered my way are the cause of that? Because in that case then every review ever done of my work, my books, my art or everything every slandering tabloid journalist wrote about my weight, size and lifestyle, would be enough cause for me to break down, and not have a reason to get out of bed each _sodding_ morning to prove them _all_ wrong? Because let me tell you, it _is not_. So don’t you _fucking_ dare think that for one minute millisecond that what you said to me last night is causing all of this…”

She shouted, gesturing to herself.

Ben was fuming, but taken aback, and also as the latter, was Tom.

“Then what is it? Would you be so kind as to tell me what is is I have or havent done? I’m not a fucking mind reader?”

Ben shouted back, equally as angry as she had.

“You never listen!” She yelled.

Ben saw such anger in her eyes right then.

“To what?” He asked with sarcasm.

“At my apparantly ‘Petty and jealous’ attempts to break you and Rachel up. That’s what.”

She answered.

“Oh _here we_ go again!…”

Ben sighed, sounding exasperated and still angered.

“She is lying to you Ben, And unless you swallow your damn pride and take that with a pinch of salt. Then you had better be alright with having a compromised marriage and a wife that is unfaithful to you.”

She pointed out quietly.

That really drove her point home, straight to Ben’s heart.

“I can’t believe I came _here_. I cant even comprehend that I wanted to come here and patch things up with you. That I ever wanted _you_ to take me, _back._ ”

Ben shouted.

Libby had folded her arms. And right then. With tears falling fast down her face over her lips as she looked shrunken and small again. she whispered quietly a few words in disbelief.

“If you think I’m going to take you back…”

She muttered, wiping away a tear as her voice wobbled on the words.

“Well. Don’t bother then.”

Ben snapped, nastily.

“Sorry to have impeded so on your _fucking_ precious time, _your majesty…_ ”

He growled. That was before he turned on his heel and walked away.

He paused when he came to Tom. Silent fuming look on his face asking one question.

“You’ll see me at the wedding. But after that, I can’t promise that we’ll keep in touch.”

Tom promised nastily, moving to stand between him and Libby. Showing where his loyalty laid. 

Ben took one last angry look at Libby. And she would forever, til the day she died, remembered the revulsion in that singular look.

As quickly as he came, he turned, and he left.

This was how it ended. After 16 years of friendship, and this is what killed it.

Libby had a thought somehwere in the back of her head that she had been cheated….

“Tom. Could you lock the door when you leave?”

He watched as she sadly wiped away her tears with mute misery and stalked back up her staircase.

“Tea?” He asked.

 

She shook her head as she walked away, going back to her bed. And there, was where she would stay for the time being...


	13. Getting By...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We Love Tessa! And if you have not heard the song. Go and listen! NOW! It'll get you in the perfect mind frame for the Libby/Ben break up. And it's just a great song. By a beautifully voiced woman... GO. fIND IT! Don't make me tell you twice! Authors orders...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics: they make such sense for what's happening...
> 
> Sometimes I wonder, do you  
> Even recognize the woman that's standing in front of you
> 
> Listen, sometimes I wonder, do you  
> Even care or realize why I took care of you
> 
> 'Cause you're my heart  
> You are my soul  
> You're my other half without you I cannot be whole baby
> 
> So far apart, I just don't know  
> What drove us apart in the first place now I know baby, why
> 
> These tears I cry sure won't be the last  
> They will not be the last, no
> 
> 'Cause this pain inside never seems to pass  
> It never seems to pass me by
> 
> So I thank you  
> Said I thank you  
> Yes I thank you  
> For making me a woman
> 
> Sometimes I wonder could she be  
> More of a woman to you than you are a man to me
> 
> Listen, sometimes I wonder, why me  
> I'm here miserable while you're out living your fantasies and didn't care
> 
> 'Cause you're my heart  
> You are my soul  
> You're my other half without you I cannot be whole baby
> 
> So far apart  
> I just don't know  
> What drove us apart in the first place now I know baby, why
> 
> These tears I cry sure won't be the last  
> They will not be the last, no  
> 'Cause' this pain inside which never seems to pass  
> It never seems to pass me by
> 
> So I thank you  
> Said I thank you  
> Yes I thank you  
> For making me a woman
> 
> One thing I learned in life  
> We all gotta be ready to sacrifice to survive  
> I hope she's happy  
> 'Cause you're the chapter that I'll be closing hope you're happy  
> 'Cause once my door close it won't re open
> 
> Estelle - Thank You 
> 
> So fucking poignant. Go look this up. NOW!

 

 

 [Please, give this a listen, its a good-un. and authors orders!!!](https://youtu.be/yUuEYM9vjlw)

 

 

_~ 6 (Miserable) Weeks Later… ~_

 

Every day was much the same for Libby after that. She slept, cried a little, drunk barely a thimble full of water, then slept some more. and still cried. Drunk. And repeat. Sometimes she even switched from water to vodka if she felt so inclined. She lost about three days, she reckoned, curled up in a blanket on her sofa, sipping vodka and weeping through the drunkness. Listening to Estelle's 'Thankyou' over and over again until the tears dried up. She had also let her usually pristine organised house become a forgotten mess, much like herself, she imagined.

She’d been avoiding mirrors, and became pretty sure that no matter how much she hibernated in her bed or on the sofa, that the dark bags which underlined her eyes were becoming a permanent feature. And as for her eyes oozing tears randomly every now and then, she was starting to doubt that little trait would become a ‘just the once’ kind of event aswell. Of course, Tom, JJ and Tessa had texted to make sure she was still breathing. Tessa and Tom even making the rounds into her house, bothering to see if she was still in the state she had always been, making her drink a cup of tea, and forcing some high carb takeaway food down her throat. She would take but two or three bites, but after that, let it grow cold and nuzzle back into her bed and fall deep asleep. The only reason JJ hadn’t made a personal visit was because he was off filming in America. Otherwise Libby had a feeling he wouldn’t leave her side, were he in London.

Around midway through the 7th week, she was rudely awakened by a sudden sucessive loud rapping on her front door. She blearily opened her eyes and was dragged unwillingly back into the cruel reality of her sad life again. She felt exhausted from all her moping and doing nothing, and it was all she could do not to ignore the sound, and turn back over to fall asleep again. She sighed and dragged her morose self out of bed, slowly trudging down through her cold messy house, past the kitchen strewn with old used glasses, dirty plates and food wrappers littering her countertop surface. Her lounge was much the same, sofa ucked about the place, and a mountain of plates stacked up on the coffee table. Carpets and floors dirty and dusty, same goes for her study and pretty much everywhere else, aswell as every conceivable curtain or blind having been drawn down. It did look like a neglected house. To perfectly match her mood, dark and mourning.

She shuffled to the front door, with hair that hadn’t been washed since two days ago, which was a sleep matted mess, face so pale it looked haunted by the darkest of dark bags under her pained blue eyes. Plus she was wearing a thin – stained – grey baggy t-shirt and ratty old pyjama bottoms with her cosiest – now dirtiest – socks. If she felt like a wreck, then goddamnit she was going to look like one too.

She swung open the door a fraction, (part of her wishing/hoping/dreading it would be a 6”2 former best friend with blue eyes and a sexy smile) but it wasn’t – to her slight dismay – it was Tessa.

“Wakey Wakey..”

The brunette snapped wryly, wrestling her way into Libby’s dark house.

“Not dangling from your light fixtures yet I see, _hey_ that’s progress..”

Tessa barked chirpily, crossing to Libby’s fridge and sliding the several trays of catered food she baked to feed her starved friend in there, and binning the last out of date food that looked like it had barely been nibbled at. Libby sat at the counter behind Tessa, watching the woman sweep all the dirty plates into the dishwasher.

Tessa didn’t voice her concern that the state of the house had gotten so much worse since her last visit a week ago. Same goes for her friend….

“So. How’ve you been?”

Tessa asked dreading the response.

“Oh. Peachy.”

Libby supposed. Making Tessa tilt her head.

“Well. Your day’s about to get a whole lot better, You’re coming to lunch with me.”

Tessa said sharply with no hint of intolerance in her voice.

Libby winced and tried to voice her dismay.

“Tessa, I look a mess, I can’t risk going out there. Plus if I bump into…”

She paused, waving her hand.

Tessa knew who she meant. She also knew Libby couldn’t even say his name…

“… I can’t look like this if I see him.”

She insisted.

“Then shimmy up those stairs and put some nice – _cleaner,_ and _washed_ – clothes on.”

Libby sighed. Tessa was certainly going to win this one. There was no doubt about that.

“Where are we going?”

Libby spoke blandly as she headed for her stairs with an ever lingering sense of dread.

 

 

 

~

 

 

 

Libby wouldn’t often say that Tessa was prone to affecionate bouts of thoughtfulness, but, on this one unrepeatable occasion. She was. They were sat happily ensconced outside a little café, this was so Libby could enjoy a cigarette. She had let her order a rather massive glass of red wine, and insisted she was paying, so she could order whatever she wanted. (she also didn’t mention she was ordering about eight side dishes to shove down her friends throat and get some calories into her thinning wreck of a redhead) But, Libby was out in public. Without much fuss, and she was happily puffing away on a ciggy and familiarising herself with the world she had been ignoring for those sluggish six weeks.

She had dressed hastily in the first thing she could find, which happened to be a pair of wrinkled black jeans, a rumpled clash t-shirt, a huge great big grey scarf wrapped about her neck, which her unmatted and brushed red curls were tucked into, and to hide her red and dark grey bags under her eyes, she had pushed a pair of dark black mirrored retro shades onto her face. Tessa didn’t want to say anything, and it wasn’t usually that she bit her tongue, but this once, she didn’t think voicing her opinion was very wise.

She didn’t want to say her pale friend looked stark and even more so worse in the unforgiving daylight that shone over London.

Tessa went back to focusing on her menu, fiddling nervously with her silver ear hoop as she thought what she wanted to eat.

Libby glanced to her friend as she averted her eyes to the card in front of her.

“You can say it Tessa. I look and feel a mess, and I’m very aware of it.”

Libby spoke bemusedly, exhaling smoke. Sending her best ‘ _hey lady, do I look like give a fuck’_ glare to the posh looking woman at the table near them who was trying – not very hard – to look agonised by the fact Libby was smoking near her. Her face going prim and pursed, frowning mildly until Libby directed her finest Punk/Sid Viscous/Johnny Rotten/Billy Idol level stare at her.

Tess opened her mouth, then snapped it shut again like a feeding fish as she fought to remain silent.

“That’s what I thought…”

Libby let out glumly. Tessa’s sheepish silence was her answer.

“You’ve looked better..”

Tess winced lightly in an attempt to sound caring.

Libby nodded an ‘Mnnnmm’ in solid agreement.

“I think there are balding, fat buisnessmen who look far sexier, and more attractive than I do right now.”

Libby thought aloud.

“Nah. Your fine. Their tits and ass arent as good as yours…”

Tess winked quietly

Libby snorted with laughter.

“Oh. Don’t make me do that, it hurts…”

She wheezed. Holding her stomach.

“Using muscles you haven’t used in a while there.”

Tessa explained sadly.

“I can’t remember the last time I saw you laugh or smile.”

“If It’s any consolation. I want too. But it’s damn hard to see the upside of anything when your best friend rips your heart out, then leaves your life for good, and to top that off, I look like crap. My book has been rejected for the third time by a large publishing house in London, and my house is marginally better looking than a crack den, and above all I’m _still single_ , my idea of a good night in is crying over half a litre of vodka, and yet I have a painful couple-y christmas at home with my cousins and family coming up to look forward too, and every single one of them is going to quiz me over why I’m still single then pathetically try and set me up on horrible dates that will inevietably remind me why I am single in the first place. Yah _ooooo_.” Libby whined.

As she thought about all the things in her life that were badly going wrong, she began to feel unsettled again. So she reached for another cigarette and lit it. Fogging up her brain with a shot of nicotene.

Tessa nodded.

“Shit couple of month’s for you then.”

She said bluntly.

Libby smiled, raising a brow. 

“Understatement of the century.”

“I must say, the dysfunctional cynical and pessimistic side of me is enjoying this punk style rebellion your having, it’s quite refreshing as you usually have the demeanour of a Julie Andrews style Nun on happy pills.”

Tessa said quietly.

Libby smiled looking at her menu, flicking ash away.

“Glad I could amuse.” She grinned.

Just then, the waiter came over and took their orders. Tessa was having the roasted herb chicken with cheesy mash and ratatouille, Libby was on the Spaghetti and meatballs, with a huge basket of garlic bread on the side, another huge glass of red wine, and a large tomato and basil side salad. Tessa promised Libby she would eat a huge pudding too. To which she nodded. Letting herself be cared for. It felt… _nice._ For a change…

One con of being independent, you rarely got to be looked after. That was one pro of being in a relationship.

They chatted idly about this and that until ther meals arrived, steaming hot in the cold outside air, which forced them to eat quickly. Tessa watched as Libby single handedly wolfed down everything she had ordered, just as she was mopping her plate clean with a slice of garlic bread tp get every last smear of tomato sauce, they had just finished talking about Tessa’s plans for new years when Tessa voiced a little niggling concern that had been residing in her head…

“..And. You Bitch, You never told me what happened between you and JJ after _that night?_ Anything _saucy?”_ Tessa smirked with a wink.

Libby raised a brow.

“No. It’s a positively sauce- _less_ relationship…”

Libby admitted.

“... And, to be honest, I am, actually a little glad about that…” She added.

“Ok. Now, I know you have some insane brain deficiency…” Tessa explained.

Libby blushed, if but a little.

“Libs. You know he _hounded_ me as to what was wrong the night of the gallery fiasco. And when he saw Ben, my god, I thought he would tear his _head_ off…”

Libby’s face fell.

“JJ confronted Ben that night?” She looked down. “He never told me…” She whispered.

“Oh yeah. I saw JJ walk up to Ben, and he just looked… _livid._ Anyway, They exchanged words, well. Ben didn’t really fight him on it, he was talked _at_ , not _too_. And then, JJ just walked away after you.”

Libby suddenly wanted to know what had been said. But what did it matter now? She would never see Ben again. What was it to her?

“Well.”

Libby Huffed.

“None of them told you?”

“Well. JJ’s in America, filming. And _hmm hmm_. Ben is..... As you very well know…” Libby explained.

“Yeah. I guess, JJ just knows to protect your ‘Independent womanly’ pride.”

Libby nodded drinking more wine. The waiter came over to clear their plates. Also offering them the desert menu’s. When Libby put her hand up to decline. Tessa didn’t take that lying down.

“She’ll have the sticky toffee pudding _AND_ the brownie.” Tessa winked to the waiter.

Libby just smiled.

 

~

 

 

 

When Libby got home after her and Tessa’s boozy lunch, She paid for the cab fare,still keeping her eyes covered, she tugged her scarf round her neck tighter and passed the note to the cabbie through the window.

Trudging through the the spitting drizzle of rain she crossed quickly to her house pulling out her keys. But she stopped when she saw a bunch of expensive looking white flowers spattered with rain resting on her doorstep.

She walked over and unlocked the door, gently picking them up and cradling them until she was safely ensconsed in the dark house. She placed the flowers down on her round hallway table past the doorway to the kitchen. She examined them for a while. They looked nice, expensively done if she guessed correctly. They were calla lillies. Aswell as white orchids and jasmine. They smelled perfumed, and wonderful. She had shares in a florist shop. She new

She eventually found the small white nevelope – damp from rain. And she folded out the card, There were but three words on it.

_I’m Sorry,_

_Rachel_

_X_

 

Libby let the card fall back down onto the table surface. She swallowed looking at it.

After a minute of staring at it. She crossed to the kettle and clicked it on. All the while what letter burning a hole in her brain. And as the water boiled, she found her temper did too.

She crossed back into the hallway, and whacked the vase clean off the table with her right hand. So the water splashed up and out over her and the flowers were scattered to the floor as a pool of water dripped off the table. Onto the remnants of the broken glass.

She grit her teeth looking at the mess. And hours later, Libby was cleaning up her little nest of misery. And the flowers had been dumped in the bin, along with the card.

In manner of Bridget Jones, She wasn’t going to mope, and cry and let a man with horrible snarled words, and a bitchy stick insect make her feel bad about herself.

 

She was made of stronger stuff than that…

While she still had breath in her body, vodka in her cupboard, and the inspirational girly icon that was Chaka Khan. She would _not_ , let Rachel’s lies win.

 

 

Not a chance.

 


	14. Moving On, Nostalgia and Blind Dates...

 

 

 

Not for the first time – Ben awoke with the sensation of his own lungs bursting like popped party balloons inside his chest. His eyes peeled open quickly as he startled himself wake to see his bedroom ceiling mutated in half light, half darkness. The room was so insultingly silent and still when he felt so hot and worked up. As his heart rate decelerated, he peered around him to see Rachel sprawled far away from him in bed, sound asleep. He was surprised he didn’t wake her the way his body jerked awake.

Truth was. He hadn’t been sleeping too well lately. On good days he could ignore the guilt and shame he felt burning away inside himself, and focus on his work, seeing – the remainder of his friends he had left, (but none of them were, _her_ ) and on his not so good days, well, he could barely talk to anyone. He just sat in his study, telling himself he was working, when really he was _just_ able to keep a lid on his emotions. It was always the same image’s that propped up in his head.

Libby’s face after he finished snarling at her, _that night_. Or her the next day, huddled into her dressing gown looking, cold, wet, small and destroyed.

God. On some days what he wouldn’t give to go back and undo this huge mess he had created. He had let his temper get the better of him. And now it was turning out to cost him rather greatly.

He sat up, facing his large window, looking out at the early dark morning that was gripping London, Winter mornings were starting to roll in now. They got colder and darker. And Benedict was turning out to see more and more of each dark chilly morning than ever. He looked over the bed to see Rachel huddled far away from him, a good 70% of the covers over her side. He sighed.

He didn’t want the thought in his head that he always had when he woke up and saw Rachel sleeping soundly next to him…

_She’s not the woman I want sleeping next to me…_

He scruffed a hand through the back of his hair, before deciding to get up and out of bed. Silently leaving the room and crossing to his study. He flipped on the soft light in the corer over his armchair, and eased himself gently down into it. Then he did what he now associated with these sleepless nights. He reached to the side for the tattered scruffy box and opened the lid. Biting his lip he reached in and pulled out the worn stack of photos.

The top one was one of his favourites. It was taken during the ‘Third Star’ filming. The picture was him and Libby in some field in wales on a sunny day. He was giving her a piggyback, and she was dressed down in jeans and a floaty flowery black top with JJ’s straw hat that he threw on her head, and she was clutching onto him as he laughed carrying her in his ‘James’ costume, a bottle of cider in one of his hands… Both such goofy kids back then… _Happy_ goofy kids.

He shuffled to the next one. Which was of him, Tom and Libby when they graduated. All stood in full graduate gowns and caps. Libby in the middle, both boys either side kissing her blushing cheeks. Except Ben was looking at her in that picture like the way he wished he could look at her now, like she was the singularly most wonderful woman on the planet.

The next was just of Libby. He remembered it was his premiere for something, or other. And she had agreed to dress to the nines and accompany him. It was a candid shot, she was looking down at her feet smiling lightly as camera flashes went off behind her, to Ben, it was the most perfect and beautiful picture in the world. There, of course were hundreds of him and her posing stiffly together.

He also had one of the night they first met, when she was dressed as Sally Bowles from Cabaret, and he as a sailor in manner of Gene Kelly. It was a cheeky pose considering that they’d only met a matter of hours ago, but he was holding her thigh as he gripped her in a dance pose, dipping her back. He pouting seriously at him. Mind, they were both stark raving drunk by this point.

He smiled bitterly going through the photos, before he felt the feeling swelling down in his chest that meant tomorrow would be a not so good day. He put the painful photos away back in their box.

He let his head fall into his hands as he cried a few tears for his lost friend. And the worst part was, it was all his own doing.

He could only wonder if Libby missed him back….

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

~

 

 

 

 

 

 

Libby was too absorbed in her work to think of anything else, much less her previously sore friendship. True to form, and in a very Bridget Jones-esque manner of getting over her breakup. She had thrown herself head first into her work. She had done full and long days at the Bakery on Danver’s street. At her florist shop on Bramerton Street, “The Indigo Room” as it was called, pitching in, running deliveries, and just generally helping out. She then got fantastic news from her publisher, saying that her third Illustration book was accepted by a publishing house in company with animation studios in Ireland who were interested, aswell as her personally being comissioned to paint and design a stage piece for the New London Theatre for a kids play. She barely had time to breathe or eat, let alone miss that _certain, person…_

It was a drizzly Tuesday night when Tom came over to visit. Finding her in the old garage doing her stage design. She was dressed head to toe in scruffy old artists clothes, which was ill fitting scuffed paint spattered jeans and a grubby white jumper – which too was speckled with paint – and she had shabby blue converse on her feet, aswell as a silk scarf headband in her hair, so curls of it fell down messily into her face. The look suited her perfectly. The working artisté. As per usual, she had her god awful blaring punk rock blasting as she worked. Tom smiled and slighly winced at the loud volume as he sauntered into her garage, the wide metal door being open. Which was letting the chilly evening air in,

“Well. You look remarkably better since I saw you last…”

He smiled, crossing the chilly room to come to a stand beside her behind the table where she was bust layering paint across a large piece of cloth.

“Nice to see you too, Hiddles…” Libby smiled.

“I’d hug you but frankly I don’t want to get filthy…” He smiled, holding her arm out and looking down at the splashes of paint streaked across her.

“Yes. I never was one for working neatly…” Libby smiled, smacking his hand away as she walked over to the large sink and washed off some paintbrushes.

Tom peered over her work to see exactly what she was doing. It looked like she was painting a picturesque countryside of some sort.

“And this is?” He asked.

“Moles House..” Libby finsihed in a terse manner with a silly smile.

“Oh how foolish of me not to recognise it…” Tom said sarccily.

“Its for the Wind in the Willows panto…” Libby finished in explanation.

“I see.” Tom nodded.

“.. And would you believe, the Director of Art asked for me personally?” Libby smiled. Wiping her hands on an old piece of oil rag.

“Not greasing palms I hope.” Tom winked.

“No. I knew him from Art School. A good egg, if but a bit too gay and eccentric.” Libby smiled.

“He works in the theatre for a childrens play, I expect no less.” Tom suggested.

Libby laughed.

“ _SO._ Mr Hiddleston, is your only reason being here to check up on my well being?” Libby asked

“Oh but it is, seeing as the last time I saw you, you were parlyetic, and curled up in the fetal position. And hadn’t eaten anything in three weeks.” Tom reminded her.

“Yes, but look how well I stand, walk, talk and eat now…” Libby swept a hand down over herself in a cheeky gesture.

Tom tilted a brow.

“I’ll be ok, Tom.” She said seriously.

He took her by the shoulders.

“Then that’s all I need to know.” He smiled.

She smiled at his soppy nature.

“By the way did I tell you I have a date tonight?”

Tom looked taken back.

“With whom?”

“Blind date.” Libby explained.

“Your optimism shocks me.”

“I’m trying to stay positive…”

“Good luck. He could be foul.” Tom smirked.

“I’m not listening to a word…”

Libby sauntered off, turning her music up louder so she couldn’t hear his protests, but could only see him laughing over the sound of the clash as she carried on working.

My date will be great, she thought…

 

 


	15. Soulless, Martini's, and Handsome Saviors...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More JJ Fields appreciation here, folks. gaaaaaddd, what a man..... 
> 
> \- Author 
> 
> x

                                                                                                     

                                                                                                      

                                                                                                     

 

Scrap that – My date would be a great, _target_ for an anonymous assassin to shoot in the back of the head to put Libby out of her misery. Or failing that, shoot her instead so the crippling injury meant the date would be over.

But, she thought, she wasn’t really being very kind thinking such things. Libby could think of fouler people to be on a date with, yet, thinking of them in comparison to him made her feel slightly like she’d been dealt a card from the bottom of the deck. But then he’d just stare grotesquely at her tits again while she talked and she found herself right back in the same boat of disliking him.

The date had started off alright, to look at there wasn’t much wrong with James. He seemed a lovely guy, not too bad looking, reasonably well dressed, clean pressed jacket and jeans, light coloured jack Daniels shirt, smart yet casual, altogether not that bad- apart from the nauseating and so 70’s brut aftershave, and the hideous red leather cowboy boots he was quite a nice guy. Until they sat down to eat…

Libby had a strict dating rule: You could always truly tell the personality of a man by the way they treat either .a) Waiter’s, or .b) Animals. And judging by the way James barked at their poor young waitress at every forseeable opportunity, then the date wasn’t going as nicely as he perhaps envisioned. Libby quickly found out he was the worst sort of man to date. He was a toxic bachelor, a mix of sexist/racist/pig-headed/arroganance/ignorance and insolence. Qualities which she found abhorrent. Although his personality definitely stole the biscuit..

For one, he was the kind of guy that _clicked_ his fingers at the waitress as if she were his misbehaving slave. So much so that as a consequence, she pointedly avoided their table. Libby didn’t blame the poor lass, if she had a patron like him when she was working, she would’ve dumped something hot down his front “accidentally” by now. He chewed with his mouth open, and laughed in the same way. (It was like sitting opposite a Jackson Pollock painting) He was slurping his way through pints and pints of beer. And kept boasting about how great he was at golf, how great the view from his flat was, and how successful his wine labelling company was. The whole night was devoted to talking about him. Aswell as the list of rude attributes which he could be categorised under, he was also self-absorbed. Only asking Libby what she did, the rest of the night was spent on him.

“So, this guy was coming at me right. And He was all ’You fucking, wanker, I’m gonna bash your fucking head in..’ So I just looks at him and says ‘Mate you couldn’t take me if you wanted too, you fucking tosser’ ”

He partially shouted his overfluffed anecdote at her. That was another thing, the swaring. Every other word was soaked in profanity and beer scented breath that made her flinch away from opposite him. Other patrons around the restaurant were looking round and frowning at her and at his back at his loud guffaws of irritating laughter. She could only give them looks of pity and apology back, after all, she was having to associate with the man.

Libby took a sip of her very dirty, very strong martini, pretending to look interested. Smiling and raising her brows, secretly shooting longing looks over to the door and wishing she could ditch this aswful man, slide through it, run home and get in bed with a good book and a cup of tea.

“So, anyway. He backed down, I mean he was a big lad, but he clearly had no brains if you know what I’m talkin’ about. All dick and no trousers.”

He laughed again. too loudly. That guffawing unintelligent sound that made Libby want to strangle him.

“Besides, I think I’ve been neglecting you all evenin’ darlin’. Woman as _fit_ as you…” His eyes were on her Tits again now as he leered wolfishly at her.

She sighed inwardly to herself _. Ah, yes. What the great flatterer you are good sir, does shakespeare know about you?, us women simply long to be called ‘fit’ all our lives._ She thought sarccily.

She smiled and wriggled slightly in her seat, adjusting in the hopes that he’d refocus his gaze on her eyes instead of her chest. So far tonight her cleavage had been given more eye contact than her face.

“Oh, well. I’m nothing interesting I assure you…”

Libby smiled sweetly attempting to put him off. Fiddling with the rim of her empty glass. That was the infuriating thing about the way he had treated the waitress, she now was making an effort to avoid her table – quite rightly – and she was longing for a refill so she didn’t sober up and kill her date with her linen napkin.

So far it was between shoving it so far down his oesophagus until he affixated to death. The other was to tear it to bits and strangle him with it. No self respecting woman should ever have to date a man like this. Or failing that, she needed another bloody martini.

“I wouldn’t say that. I bet you’re real interesting in bed sweetheart.”

He winked, slipping his fork into his mouth and chewing. Licking it in a manner that was attempting to be seductive.

Libby wanted to be violently sick. He refocused on her glass.

“Now that’s hardly a fitting subject to discuss over dinner..” She smiled nicely. So it didn’t sound as much of a dig.

He just laughed again, whilst she got a disgusting glimpse of his half chewed food rolling about in his mouth. His eyes settling again on her chest that she was beginning to wish she had worn more to cover it up. It wasn’t even all that obvious, barely a sliver of cleavage showing. But still the man across from her was enthralled by it.

“Oh god, You’re not a virgin are you?”

He asked suddenly, leaning in so it loked like he was making an effort to speak something directly to her, but didn’t suceed this as he spoke no less quietly.

Libby, who had been taking a sip of her tap water they ordered for the table. Snorted half of it back into her glass.

After she swallowed and regained her composure, Her first reaction was to laugh in disbelief.

“I’m not going to dignify that question with an answer over dinner…”

Libby said making it plain that to her, the question was very innapropriate. Libby had a thought that even Tessa would find this man outspoken and gobby, and that was saying something.

James said nothing, but shrugged and smiled and carried on publicly chewing his food. Libby was aware patrons of other tables were giving her shocked and hoffirified glances yet again. All she could do was blush, and try and calm her reddening embarassed cheeks by drinking more water.

“I hate virgins…”

James exclaimed, reaching for his beer again. Libby shot him a look that was somewhere between “Shut up right now” and “Did you really just exclaim that?”

She tried desperately to land eyes on their waitress, and signal she needed more booze before she killed this man in front of her. That or just up and walk out.

“For what reason?” Libby asked, near horrified.

“Oh, they’re always so frigid when it comes down to it, that “ _oh please be gentle with me”_ all that bollocks.. They’re just using that as an excuse to postpone sex, and, I mean, why would you want too?” he asked with a lustful look.

Libby sighed, She truly was on a date with a man who had _no soul._

“It’s perfectly reasonable to have reservations or to be nervous about sex…” Libby defended.

“Yeah, but come on, women can’t be completely confident about themselves if they hesitate about sex..” He concluded.

Before Libby’s blood pressure rose to dangerous heights, she swiftly sought to usher the conversation onwards, and elsewhere...

“So, Cassie mentioned you lived in spain for a while? What was that like?” She asked. Cassie was a friend of a friend, and after tonight for organising this date, _dead_. Libby thought.

“Hot and dry. And I’m not just talking about my sex life if you know what I mean..” He winked.

Libby closed her eyes and sighed. But, a miracle, she finally caught sight of their waitress coming over to clear their mains away.

“Can I have _two_ , very dry, very dirty, extra large martini’s please?” Libby asked.

“I’ll have another beer, and this time make sure its atleast lukewarm for me..” He dismissed rudely.

_“…And a loaded glock please…”_

Libby japed, muttering under her breath rubbing her temple where her oncoming headache was forming. As the waitress smiled and informed her that the martini’s were on the house. Libby’s mood was slightly lifted.

Ater they were both left alone again. James took the opportunity to lean forward and look more interested in her. Which wa ssomething she didn’t want.

“You know, Cassie told me you um, you know, you’d, done some modelling…” He purred. Clearly aroused by the notion.

“I only make a point of dating models..” He told her.

 _The only people on earth with an ego as disgusting, degraded, overfluffed and as toxic as yours.._ Libby thought to herself.

“I’m not exactly a model..” Libby assuaded, anything to put this man off staring at her hungrily like she was a 15oz steak.

At that moment, Libby thanked God up above in the heavens, along with his angels, cloud moniters, harp players and beard attendants that the waitress sauntered over with their drinks. And as she placed two gargantuan sized martinis down in front of Libby, she instantly felt an awful lot better. Comforted even…

As she slammed her dates beer down fiercely, James waved her off, _literally_ , and the young womans terse stare Libby thought, probably meant his beer had been spat in.

As she moved away, Libby took one huge sip of her drink, swallowing quickly and diving back into her glass to offset sobriety and make the evening more palatable.

“Would you excuse me a minute, off to the ladies…” She explained, standing and grabbing her clutch.

“Don’t keep me waiting sweet cheeks…” James said, slapping her hard on the ass as she walked past.

She stood still and took a deep breath for a second. Debating whether or not to turn around and deck him for that, but, she was in public, she eventually decided against it. She’d just have to make sure her visit to the loo lasted a good ten minutes. She didn’t even need to go, she just needed to get away from him before she committed a well deserved, cold blooded and brutal homicide.

She could see their petite waitress waiting at the bar to take another tray of drinks over to a different table, just as she turned Libby caught her eye…

“Hey, Um, I don’t know if saying sorry would quite compensate for the way my blind date is behaving, but may I just assure you, I am going to over-tip like a rockafeller tonight…” She assured.

The waitress laughed slightly.

“He’s really not that awful..” she offered, attempting to be polite.

Libby made a face.

“You don’t have to uphold decorum in front of me, I have to talk to the soul-less bastard.”

Libby explained, walking off in the direction of the loo’s as the waitress smiled very widely at her comment.

 _A woman as nice and funny as that shouldn’t be wasted on a inconsiderate prick like him_ , she thought as she delivered her tray of drinks.

True to her form, Libby spent a good 10 – 15 minutes in the ladies, fluffing up her hair, fixing lipstick and mascara - challenging the idea of whether or not her large ass would fit out through the tiny tiolet window so she could escape – making sure that she had wasted time on all the things she could waste time on.

Dreading each step she took back to the table where the date from hell was waiting, she trudged wearily back. She was going past the packed bar where the foyer for the restrooms were, when a wolf whistle sprang to her ears, aimed at her back in her direction.

She paused and turned, and a part of her wasn’t really so surprised to see JJ sat on a barstool with his longs suited legs folded, sipping on a dissoranno whisky sour and looking like six feet of pure walking sex, that was beaming at her naughtily with his knicker dropping smile.

“Lying in wait, yet _again?_ ” Libby asked.

His smile sparkled, along with his enchanting bluey grey eyes.

“Told you I was good at it, Lucky..” He winked.

She crossed to give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek, he returned the sentiment vigorously, with thrice the amounts of love and a deep _deep_ hug enveloping her in his arms. He even smelled comforting too, like Paco Rabanne. A masculine and powerful scent, yet it was so gentle at the same time. Just like JJ.

“Oh, I missed you in the states.. I heard about Ben, I’m so sorry lucky. One, at it happening, and Two, for not being there to help you…”

He said glumly, holding her close, stroking down the side of her face with his big smooth hand. It was shockingly intimate, but it wasn’t shocking her. Matter of fact, it was making her feel giddy and girly. The best kind of fluttery feeling.

All she could do was smile humbly, and stroke her hand down his arm.

“Really, John. I’m ok..” She smiled, humbled just by his being here.

“.. I’m just wondering who told you about it…” She teased.

“Tom.” He smiled.

She nodded with realisation.

“He’s a thoughtful one, that boy..” JJ beamed.

“That he is..” Libby agreed.

“Can I get you a drink?” He offered, which was so much more than her god awful date had done.

“Normally, I would leap at the chance, but, I am here, on a date tonight..”

Libby offered, wishing it wasn’t the case so she could stay and get nicely drunk with this nice man rather than the car wreck mannered slob at her table. All the while, the bar thrummed with life and activity, as did the music that was thumping softly in the background. It was Latch by Disclosure, featuring Sam Smith. Ironically, a song about someone professing and wanting to keep the love of their life close to them.

 _“_ _You lift my heart up when the rest of me is down. You, you enchant me even when you're not around. If there are boundaries, I will try to knock them down, I’m latching on, babe, now I know what I have found.”_

She liked this song, but she hated the fact that she now had to tear herself away from JJ’s company and return to her table.

“Whose the lucky guy?”

He asked, Libby felt she could detect a note of hostility play across his eyes. Almost as if he were jealous…

She made an unamused face.

“The man has no soul. I think I’m on a date with the most undateable man in London…” She said in a bland voice.

At that point the young waitress who was serving Libby and James, came to collect another tray of drinks to take over to a table, and when she caught a glimpse of who Libby was chatting with. She looked pointedly at Jj for a minute, before blushing and moving past with a wink and a:

“ _SOooo_ Much _Better…_ ”

Aimed in Libby’s direction as she gushed over the handsome man. Blushing as she walked off.

Libby smiled as JJ remained confused.

“I’ll see you some other time for that drink?” She offered sadly moving to walk away.

“Pity…”

He smiled, scanning her from her lovely toes to the top of her wonderful head. She deserved a date with someone better, in _his_ perfectly honest and unbeatable opinion.

He found he was pining after her company as she walked away, watching that sexy ass dissapear, _not_ heading in _his_ direction, and that would simply not do…

 

~

 

Libby sat herself back down at the table, easing into her seat and placing her clutch bag down, muttering a large and winced ‘Sorry’ to the man opposite her.

Truth be told, Libby thought he looked a little miffed.

 _Good,_ she thought.

“I’m so sorry about that, I bumped into an old friend of mine at the bar, just had a little catch up.” She explained, going straight back to her large martini, that was suprisingly, still cold.

“It’s no problem..” He leered, looking, once again, far too overconfident.

Libby placed her drink down. Seeing he was still smiling filthily at her.

“Listen, um. While you were gone, I uh, paid the bill. So, now as I figure it, you owe me a little something, so why don’t you and me, catch a cab back to my place, crack open a bottle of wine and have at it? What do you say Livvy?”

She was stumped, and also a little scared… and slightly infuriated that he didn’t even get her name right, yet was eyeing her up like his next meal.

“Uh, well- I…” she stuttered.

“That’s a very nice offer of you, James. But, I have an early meeting in the morning.. and I, well. As lovely an offer as that is, I have to say no..”

He sat back looking like he hadn’t lost the battle just yet. She’ll give it to him, he had determination.

“Come on… I paid for your dinner” He cooed, attempting to persuade her.

Her mouth gaped.

“…And by that measure you think I now owe sex to you?”

She asked incredulously. He was really something else.

“Well.” He began. “Yeah…” He winked.

She opened her mouth to rant at him how he was a repulsive big headed wanker who she was five seconds away from slapping the living shit out of, when someone appeared beside her.

“Libby…”

She turned her head to see JJ stood there, and he looked fuming.

“Jay…” She said, eyes darting around as she was confused as hell.

“How could you do that to me?”

He asked quickly, terse temper raging as his fists literally shook with rage and he was staring her down like he wanted to skin her.

James as looking at him with some confusion too aswell.

“Mate, who the fuck are you?”

James asked protectively with an edge to his voice.

Libby was very much wishing the curved leather bench she was sat on could swallow her whole.

“Who the fuck AM I?” JJ asked rhetorically.

“I’m only her bloody, _HUSBAND!_ ” JJ yelled, anger now directed at James.

“You’re married?”

James asked her, like _he_ was the one who had been cheated all evening. ( _yeah right_ , Libby thought inwardly. There goes three hours of my life I _won’t_ get back…)

She opened her mouth, but no words leapt to her defence.

“Yes, she’s married. We seperated for three days, and what happens? You take the ring off, leave me brokenhearted at our home, and go on a _DATE?_ ” JJ asked, shouting at her now.

Libby managed to catch his eye and mouth something at him without moving her lips much and letting James know, which was;

“what-the-hell-are-you-doing?”

JJ just winked at her, mouthing back a “you’ll-see..”

It was James who spoke up next.

“Hey look, she’s my bird you can’t just…” He began. Standing up and trying to look threatening.

But anything he could do, JJ could do better.

JJ shot him a look that was pure ice, and being six foot something, stood close so he towered over Libby’s date. Looking furious and jaw droppingly wonderful (Libby thought..)

“Really? She’s your bird? I don’t see a wedding ring to prove it…”

He boomed. As a result, James shrunk away.

Libby spoke next, to really drive the little theatrical home.

“Jay, I was, so confused I…”

She said in a tiny voice. Playing along to see her date opposite grow more angered. Tears were sparkling in her eyes.

JJ looked over at her, hurt and tender.

“I love you, baby… What will it take for you to come back to me again?”

He asked, dropping to his knees beside her, grasping both her hands and kissing them. One lone tear sliding down his cheek.

 _My god, you take your job too seriously, and you are illegally good at it, Mr Fields…_ thought Libby.

“Oh, god. I’ve been such a fool, Jay. I love you, I love you so much…”

She spoke, as his hand came up to cup her cheek and he looked like he had fallen in love all over again.

“I’d crawl a million miles on my hands and knees over broken glass for you, you know that right…” He said, thumbing over her cheeks as she cried too.

“I love you-“

Was muffled into Libby’s mouth as JJ leaned forwards and kissed her, hard and passionately on the lips. Both hands cradling her head as she was trapped in kissing him. Libby half felt as if the music from ‘Gone with the Wind’ should be playing in the background…

They pulled away and smiled madly at each other, Libby laughed at the fact that patron’s and waiters were clapping, people smiling around them. Some even cheered at JJ’s little dinner theatrical which they all believed to be real.

James was still stood watching them until he exclaimed loudly.

“Fuck this…”

He spat at the two of them, storming across the restaurant and out of the door.

“I hope and pray that is the last time I ever see that man..”

Libby spoke under her breath. Running a hand through her hair.

“Me too…” JJ smiled, raising a cheeky brow in only the way JJ could do.

“May I join you?” He asked, gesturing to the seat James had vacated.

“After saving me from him? My god man, you can marry me and let me mother your young..” Libby explained.

JJ laughed as he lowered himself into the seat opposite her.

“So. How are you really? You were a bit nonedescript earlier…”

He asked, leaning forwards, the candlelight from the table making him look sinfully good.

“Everyone seems to be obsessed with how I am. I am great. Couple of weeks ago, truth be told, it was grim, but I got through and I’m fine now. Im working, eating, talking, sleeping. The usual…” She explained.

JJ smiled.

“Then I shall ask no more…” He concluded.

Libby smiled.

“What about you, how was america?” Libby asked.

“Working. Was dull, I can’t believe you expect me to answer that question when you’re sat there In that sexy dress and heels distracting me…” He smiled slyly. Eyes flicking down her figure before landing on her own eyes.

 _Eye contact._ She sighed, happily _. At last…_

Libby sipped on her Martini.

“Steady on..”

She flirted to him as he beamed back at her across the table.

“With you? Never” He winked.

Libby blushed, despite herself.

“Stop eyeing me up. You hungry, I haven’t even had pudding yet?”

she explained, unfolding the menu. And handing him one, to which he took.

“I’ll treat you..” JJ offered.

“Got to buy my missus something…” He laughed.

“A ring for starters?” she asked.

“Sorry, I can’t hear you love, I’m reading…” He dismissed.

She laughed, and it felt wonderful.

Now this was definitely three hours of her life she didn’t mind if she got back… because it was so worth it with him opposite her instead.

 

~

 

None of them immediately realised that the restaurant was closing now. Staff were absentmindedly sweeping crumbs up off the floor, wiping down the tables with disinfectant, extinguishing candles and stacking chairs up on table tops.

Libby and JJ were still so engrossed in each other, they barely noticed that they were the only ones left.

“You did not!” She laughed.

“I did, I did it and he actually believed me…” JJ finished, laughing into his nearly empty glass of whisky.

Pudding had turned into a cheeseboard, a cheeseboard turned into after dinner coffee, and coffee had turned into a after dinner drink. Libby was enjoying a lemon chello, and JJ a sour whisky. – his favourite.

“Ohh, poor him.”

Libby laughed, shuffling on her seat, doing a double take at her watch when she saw the time.

She then peered over her shoulder to see indeed that as the waiters were dividing tips up on the bar, and all the chairs were stacked, that they had spent longer here than they originally thought.

“Did you know, its ten to two…” Libby offered.

JJ raised a brow.

“Time flies when chatting to lovely women..”

“Oh, I’m sure it does, stud..” Libby winked.

“Especially, redheads…” He flattered.

“How _are_ you still single?”

She genuinely wondered. He was pure sex, she was just curious… Her drunk brain wondered if Sex in her thirties with him would be any different from sex in her twenties…. Just a thought….

“I’m a very different person off my medication..” He joked.

Libby smiled, leaning forwards, pushing her chest up and her eyes turned flirty yet serious, he thought. It also took every ounce of willpower he had not to throw the table out of his way and shag her right here and now.

“I’m asking in a most serious manner…” She steeled.

JJ sighed, looking straight at her. Before he leaned forwards, looking sincere and glancing down as he told her the truth.

“I look very different when I’m not wearing my make up…” He said seriously

Libby laughed.

“Ohh. You are something else, you know that.” She beamed.

“Right back at you, you bathing beauty…” He glowed.

“I think we’ll be thrown out of we don’t leave soon..” Libby ushered quietly. Jerking her head to the side.

JJ looked around, seeing everyone else in the restaurant had their coats on ready to leave and lock up. It was late after all…

JJ smiled, downing his wine, before standing and helping her get into her coat. She turned and folded her arms into it, She had not idea that he was trying so hard not to kiss her like he so desperately wanted too. Her scented hair inches away from his nose, that lovely swan like neck, those plump lips that begged to meet his again…

But, he thought against it.

He dropped a wad of notes on the table for their bill, no matter her protests as she reached for her purse. He gave her a look and she put it away, kissing him on the cheek as a thankyou, he stood and pulled his suit jacket and scarf on, it wasn’t too cold outside, just cold enough to need something about his neck.

He offered her his arm with a cheeky ‘Miss Bennet’ comment, to which she smiled and linked her arm through his. They strolled through the empty restaurant, apologising and thanking the staff who smiled enthusiastically at them.

Libby pressed her promised tip into the young waitresses hand.

“You know what you did…”

She thanked, smiling sincerely and heading for the door. Which JJ held open for her. Libby smiled and dodged out as he looked after her and linked her close when they got into the cool air outside.

The young waitress nodded with a thought in her head as she watched the two of them depart.

“ _Yeah. Much better than that other tosser…”_ She thought.

Libby burrowed down deeper into her coat as JJ huddled close next to her as they walked. She wasn’t too far from home now. Barely even three or four streets away.

“Any other far away job prospects coming your way soon?” Libby asked him, looking up at him as they strolled arm in arm.

He shook his head.

“No, I think I’m england bound for a good long while now…” He smiled down at her.

To Libby, that sounded _very promising_. And JJ realised, that was how he _meant_ that statement to sound…

“That’s… good.” Libby finished, struggling to find the words that she wanted to speak.

“An um, I’ll be very, you know, free and available for the next few weeks. I mean my work load isn’t at all very large at the minute…” Libby added.

They came to a stand still at a little corner junction near her home. Just down the end of the road.

“Is that so?”

He finished, standing still with her as he moved a little curl of red hair off her cold cheek.

“Yeah. Well. You know, I’m not a very in demand woman..”

She offered, smiling as his hand cupped her cheek and examined her lovingly.

“Oh, I beg to differ..” He whispered hotly.

“I don’t know, If, you perhaps got bored of not working, you could come over to mine, and I could cook you dinner, If your favourite dish is still that paella that I make, you know. I wouldn’t say no to you popping over one night…” Libby hinted not so slyly.

JJ smiled, that lethally sexy smile that made her knees go wobbly.

“Well, I do get _so bored_ at home…”

He flirted back, very close to her now. All she could smell was paco rabbane, and all she could feel was lust for him. That and one of his hands on her neck and the other cupping her lower back to bring her closer into his body.

“Is that a yes?” Libby asked as her breath deserted her.

“No. This is….” JJ spoke, leaning forwards and sealing his lips across hers

She moaned gladly onto his lips, closing her eyes as a flare of desire shot down her spine like a flare. Definitely feeling something stirring down below, so to speak after many weeks of wanting something, and now she knew. She wanted him. And lord, did she want him like _crazy…_

The two amorous lovers drew their arms tighter around one another, kiss deepening as desire flared between them, JJ’s hand slipping under her coat to cup her superb ass and drag her closer to feel all those curves that he had been pining after since their failed one night stand. Libby’s hand drawing into his short silky hair as his tongue flicked across her lips and she whimpered into him with a lustful sigh and a smile.

Unbeknownst to them, their amorous lip lock did not go unseen. They had been at a friends for dinner who happened to live a few doors down from Libby’s. They were just walking back to the main street to catch a cab when they caught sight of the two people embraced in a very passionate position. Rachel didn’t see, she was too busy tottering around in her too high platform heels, hanging onto Ben’s arm for support, plus she was far too drunk. He was quite far away, but they were recognisable even from a distance. Ben saw them. And a tiny part of him broke down when he did…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	16. Changing Times, Revisiting, and Custodial Rights...

   

 

 

 

Before she could even properly savour it. Libby noticed that Autumn had nearly come and gone in London. Of course, there was always the ever lingering weather that procceded to always be awful. Yet, Libby still barely had time to notice it. She seemed so busy these days, work mainly was a large part of that. All the while trying to factor in the demand of constantly being asked to lend a hand in some of her business investments. She found herself waiting tables at the bakery, running deliveries for the florists aswell as teaching classes there, and helping fulfill orders for a wedding. She barely had a moment to herself, let alone one to lend to the fact that three weeks prior, she had shared a viscous snog with JJ. And there was the other factor of a man who shall not be mentioned. She wasn’t giving any thought to that either. Much. If any. At all.

It happened to be a peaceful Tuesday night. She had been on her feet all day at the Indigo room. And whilst she loved working and that helped the long day fly by, she had been on her feet constantly since seven this morning. And all she’d had to eat was a ginger snap and a cup of tea on her ten minute break. Although she adored nearly every season in London, Autumn really was her favourite, her house was warm and wonderfully cosy, she was happily clothed in some lightwash blue jeans, fluffy grey socks and a chunky grey cable knit sweater. She had ordered approximately eight tonnes of chinese food, which her kitchen counter was now busy groaning under the weight of. Uncaring, she grabbed a small carton of crispy duck and soy noodles with two chopsticks daggered into it, and happily walked from her kitchen to her lounge, spooning noodles into her mouth as she went, before collapsing on her cushiony white and grey striped sofa, throwing a tartan rug over her knees, thanking herself for lighting the woodburning fire to to keep the room toasty from the bitter autumn chill.

She switched on the TV to DVD seeing the credits for the film she selected earlier starting to play. She was enjoying the quiet evening in to herself. She could eat whatever food she ordered. Not fight tooth and claw with Hiddles for it, she could willingly choose what film she wanted to watch, not have to have a demorcatic vote out of a choice of three. She smiled with glee as she saw the film title ‘A Star Is Born’ thrummed across the screen. She always harboured an appreciation for Liza Minelli, and the same went for Judy Garland. Whom she adored in the film. It made her long for a soulful singing voice, and not the nasally cats-in-a-bag-being-swung-into-a-wall type voice which she had been gifted with.

She was half an hour into her film when her phone rang, buzzing so hard it nearly fell from the arm of the sofa. She out the film on pause and swallowed a large mouthful of noodles to help accommodate her voice once again.

“Hello…” came her muffled response through a mouthful of crispy duck.

“Let me guess. Its Tuesday. So, that means, you are slumped on your sofa having ordered disgustingly greasy chinese food enough to feed an army and are now stuffing your face with it whilst you watch some Judy Garland or Liza Minelli movie all by yourself in that big house…” Tessa drawled. Trust the woman not to use the conventional ‘hello’

“What of it?” Libby smiled, cradling the phone between her ear and shoulder, picking at her noodles with a grin on her face hearing her bemused friend chastize her from the other end.

“As best friend. It is my duty to not allow you to become Mrs Couch Potato…” Tessa barked in a most serious manner.

“How very Christian of you…” Libby japed.

“You are not sitting alone for another night, scoffing your face with takeaway food. That cannot be your future…”

“Oh now. Dream killer.” Libby interjected. “I happen to like my solitary Tuesday nights to myself…” She argued.

“Your existance looks bleak if it continues down this sad spinstery path…” she suggested.

“Then you best let me go. I have a very full night ahead of me. I have to start collecting newspapers, buy a blue bath robe, get some cats, start cackling like a witch and loose all my front teeth.” Libby joked.

“Harsh, but true. Get out the house go somewhere. Do something different…” Tessa commanded.

“Like what? Have you any suggestions? Spinster hater?”

Libby listened to Tessa’s suggestion.

“Gimme half an hour, I’ll bring the wine?”

“And dress sexy…” Tessa hinted.

“I’m not sleeping with you unless you buy me a drink first…”

Libby smiled. Hearing Tessa laugh before she hung up.

 

 

 

~

 

 

True to her word, half an hour later. Libby breezed through the door to her small local supermarket. It was a small farmers markey in chelsea that sourced products from all over Britain from fresh shellfish from Cornwall to organically produced vegetables. She swiped a basket from the large pile and breezed her way through the shop that she knew like the back of her hand.

The market, ‘The Eatery’ stocked every foreign brand and everything you couldn’t find anywhere else. That was why Libby adored it so much. Especially the oriental food section. (a personal favourite of hers)

As per Tessa’s request and generally cojoling into bullying her out of her comfy warm house, and over to hers for dinner, she had acquiesced to that ‘dress sexy’ request. She was wearing her favourite little black dress, bodycon and classicly sexy with a fitted skirt and cut out ‘V’ at the back of her skirt. As It was also getting cold, she wore her thick max mara black trenchcoat, with the collar folded up to protect her from the cold, along with the trustiest pair of black heels with devil red soles – she felt they added a certain something to her ensemble. Giving her devilish confidence.

She wound her way through the aisles, clicking her tongue as she thought. Looking at various exotic items she could take to dinner. Wine definitely, one red, one white just to be on the safe side. Some spanish garlic crisps with a sun blushed tomato dip. Italian fresh baked basil and cheese straws, still warmed from the bakery. Aswell as a very naughty looking box of belgian chocolates Libby was certain just _one_ of which would knock the dentist’s bill up a notch. She was heading back around the wine aisle, past the frozen foods into the crisp section to pick up some of her favourite peppered parsnip crisps, lugging her heavy basket along when she stopped. Dead in her tracks. It was entirely certain that the supermarket wasn’t that well known, or busy for that matter. Only a few people dotted about each aisle, probably due to the fact it was nearly seven at night. But even with all of those things taken into account, she definitely didn’t expect this.

She did not expect to see the man whose name she couldn’t even utter.

Whom she had been pushing the thought of, out of her mind.

_Benedict._

Her heart sunk down in her tightening chest. There he was. Looking his usual Benedict-y self. Gorgeous, ruffled brown hair, that certifiably famous profile. He was reaching into the freezer for a bag of peas, perfectly unaware she stood behind him. Stood there all tall in his Guess wrinkled age old jeans, his battered black leather jacket, and as he twisted to the side, Libby’s heart ached to see the brookyln bridge t-shirt stretched onto his lanky frame. The one _she_ had brought for him last christmas. And he had those tattered things they used to call converse on his feet, though his were held together by the dirt molecules stringing themselves together.

She swallowed, and before she could do the cowardly turning away and walking out, he turned and saw her. And he stopped, coming to a stand still too. Obviously just as affected as she was, and equally lost for words.

That was before he shuffled awkwardly, looking to his feet for a second before he spoke.

“Here, I thought I got custody of this place..”

He spoke in hushed good humour, with that wry smile that her heart and eyes had missed.

Somehow his joking made her feel rotten inside.

“I’ll rectify that, shall I… I was just leaving…” She uttered miserably, turning to walk away back down the aisle where she had come from.

She heard the freezer door slam shut quickly behind her, aswell as the squeak of his rubber soles on the lino floor as he ran after her, gently touching the palm on her shoulder to make her turn.

“Libs, please, wait. Don’t go.”

She scoffed, aused and turned to face him.

“Oh, that’s funny. _“don’t go”_ yet, seven weeks ago you practically chased me away with pitchforks and torches because you couldn’t wait to see the back of me, your, what was it again? your _sad, lonely spinster_ …” Libby echoed, using his hurtful words.

Ben swallowed, looking sheepish and full to the brim with guilt.

Libby heard him sigh.

“I was an ass for saying that.” He admitted in a small voice.

Libby raised her brow and gave him an _‘oh really?’_ look.

“look, this fighting is stupid and immature, I know I caused it , and I said some awful things to you. And hurt you deeply.”

Libby glared.

“What a vast understatement…” she snarled.

“I’m sorry.” Ben shook his head, whispering the words. His eyes pure and hurting. Looking as blue as ever.

“.. and I’m late. For Dinner with Tessa and her new boyfriend.” Libby explained sharply, moving off again until Ben stopped her. Again.

“ _SO_ that’s it?” Ben asked, walking after her as she tried desperately to ignore him. “You’re just going to walk off and pretend our friendship never existed?”

“That’s about the gist of it, yes.” Libby concluded, throwing the words over her shoulder harshly.

“Oh you’re so..” Ben ground under his breath through gritted teeth.

She spun to face him.

“ _SO_ what? Ben?” She asked, daring him.

“Stubborn. Concieted. And Condescending…” he bit out nastily.

Libby sure as hell wasn’t going to cry at his nasty words this time. Because she was, _fuming._

“Yes. Yes maybe I am. Maybe I like being that way. Maybe because that way, I avoid getting hurt, heartbroken and rejected by the people I used to call my friends.”

“I’m amazed you have any left..” He retorted sarcilly.

“Oh yes, It is such a wonder, isn’t it. All 3 of them. But hey, it’s like that famous old saying, better fewer loyal, than many dishonest.” She spat back.

“You think _I’m_ dishonest?” He asked.

“No, I don’t actually. I think you’re ignorant, cruel and unjust.”

He shook his head, laughing at her.

“And of course your opinion on everything is always astoundingly correct…” He mocked.

“Oh, I don’t know, that’s the kind of intrusive question you should be asking your wife…”

Libby snapped cruelly. She knew that was below the belt but the gloves were off now. He was laying down the gauntlet, and she was busy slashing the first wound in favour of her victory.

Ben shook his head.

He stalked right up to her then, eyes hot and furious, just like hers. She didn’t waver an inch. They were both ready to spit poison at each other like duelling cobras.

“Before I forget, How’s JJ? The two of you seemed to have cosied up together so nicely. And Tom too? He was dressed in rumpled clothes when I came to see you the morning after…” He hinted, Libby swore she felt her blood pressure boil over.

“ _Oh_ , Don’t you dare.” She cut him off, her voice alone could’ve slaughtered. Dripping with acid just like her eyes were glaring at him lethally.

“I’m calling it how I see it.”

“No, you’re just calling me a cheap whore, who sleeps around with her friends.” Libby ground out thruthfully.

“That’s one way to put it. It’s not what I wanted to insinuate. But have you?” He snarled nastily.

“If I have, it’s none of your _fucking_ buisness…” Libby growled.

“So that’s a yes..” He taunted.

“You need to stand a good arm swinging length away from me Ben.” She warned, gritting the sentence out through grinding teeth.

“You know, I wanted to apologise because I would daresay I missed you.”

“Yes, because that’s the exact vibe you’re giving off to me, that pining vibe when your busy glaring daggers at me and insulting every aspect of my life…” Libby mocked.

“Yesterday I would’ve meant it..” He snarled.

“And today?” Libby asked.

He was silent, that was her answer.

Libby shook her head. Finally defeated as all the nasty things they had to say had been said.

She turned to walk away for real this time.

Ben swallowed. Really dreadfully wanting to say three words that were on the tip of his tongue.

“Would you have accepted my apology?” He asked after her retreating figure. Ire stoked and firing.

She stood and turned,

“No.” She said finally.

“Ben, I told you the god honest truth and you, destroyed me, without any scrap of consceince because of it. I can’t forgive you for what you said. It’s beyond clemency.” She admitted.

“What if I tried.” He asked in anger.

She laughed, coldly.

“Then you’d be a fool for even trying.” She said honestly.

“Libby. I love Rachel, and I’m going to marry her. She’s going to be my wife…” he sputtered angrily.

“That’s how marriages typically work…” Libby sarcced.

“..Can you not just forget what she said to you? It could have just been a load of bollocks. I want my best friend back.” He said honestly. Still with fury underlinging his voice.

She took a deep breath.

“Too late for that. You’ve already lost her.” she finished, loudly.

“I can see that.” Ben snapped.

He shook his head, anger fuelled on.

“Go on then. Go and sob to JJ. I hear the mans gagging for you anyway. Apparantly Tom is too.” Ben mocked.

She bit her lip, walking back and slapping him so hard across the face.

the sound of her hand striking across his cheek was left ringing in their ears. Aswell as the reddening welt that began across his face. 

“Don’t you even dare, Ben.”

She growled furiously, dumping her basket and walking off.

Blood was pumping hot and hard through his veins as he watched her walk away for the third time.

“You left your stuff here…” He called obviously after her.

Ben heard the final thing she shouted back just before she walked out of sight.

“Lost my appetite…”

 

 

 

~

 

 

She couldn’t believe she was here.

She couldn’t fathom that she had walked out of a messy conflict with Ben, and her feet had taken her here. Walked all eight streets away to get to where she was now stood.

Thank god the lights were on inside. They must’ve been home.

She had an awful feeling lining her stomach. One of perhaps suggesting maybe she shoudln’t have come, that she should have, left well enough alone.

But she had, and there was no going back now.

She pushed her way through the creaky old gate that groaned when she parted it open. She shut it behind her and secured the latch, quietly making her way up the few steps to the front door.

She took a second breathing in the scandalously cold air, before she thought no better of it, and knocked three times on the wood.

She had the courtesy of atleast phoning Tessa on the way here to tell her what had transpired. Promising to make an appearance at dinner next time. But after that, she had hung up, she hadn’t told her best friend where she was then making her way too.

She had stopped in a good wine shop on the way to procure a good bottle of red to perhaps sweeten the deal.

Her heart hammered with nerves as she saw a figure through the blurred glass approach the door, and when it was pulled open from the other side, the familiar face wasn’t quite sure where to rest their emotions.

The house was just as she remembered it, alive with their favourite easy listening 80’s soul, or possibly motown. It even smelled the same as a waft of fragrance greeted her, that old smell of old wooden musk mixed with a fresh lineny scent, and paco rabbane.

She tried not to look too forlorn as she held up the bottle of wine to the person’s eyeline, who took it in one smooth hand, giving her their staple smooth wry side smirk of a smile. sapphire eyes glisttering with mischief.

“Please tell me you don’t have some, glamourously gorgeous, ultimately perfect woman in there on a date…”

Libby asked, biting her lip in shyness.

She only asked because she could smell the beggingings of what she percieved to be his infamously great casserole bubbling away, wafting the scent through from the kitchen out to the cold where she was standing.

They twitched their smile up further as they opened the door and invited her in with dangerously handsome eyes.

“I do now.” JJ winked, letting her in as he offered to take her coat.

 

 

~

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	17. Smooth Operator's, Ducks and Dogs...

 

 

 

 

 

 

    

 

 

Libby familiarised herself with JJ’s more than homely townhouse. It looked like it hadn’t changed a bit, still the neat and cosy little hovel of contemporary design it had always been. It always felt warm in JJ’s house, no matter how cold outside. Libby lent that feeling directly to the mans never inexhaustible sense of making anyone feel welcome in his home. It was like coming back to something safe, always was it a comfort for her. She supposed that was the reason her feet had navigated their way here when her brain wasn’t really on the ball.

She thanked him as he helped her out of her coat, giving her a wry and wolfish smile at the dress she had on underneath, especially when she was so tempestuous as to team the sexy black ensemble with a revealing necklined dress and limitlessly sexy heels. Damn the woman, she had been in his hallway for all of thirty seconds and he already wanted to usher her into his bedroom for the night.

“I feel so silly now, Jay, I’m sorry, I should've atleast called!” She offered, biting her lip and looking reproachful.

JJ smiled. Giving her that affable look that told her to instantly go back on that treacherous little polite thought.

“For you, My dearest Libby, needn’t hassle yourself with the worry. You know I’d gladly accept your company at even a milliseconds notice…” He beamed, turning to hang her coat on a hook.

She watched him, those long muscled arms stretching up and pulling his grey shirt tight about his biceps, and tugging the shirt tautly across his back in a way that made her flush lightly.

“What if you were on a date with the world’s most perfectly perfect woman?” She asked, a hint of cheekiness in her tone.

“Well. In that case, I wouldn’t need to press for your company if I were on a date with the worlds most perfectly perfect woman. Because, believe it or not, for me, that woman is you, my darling.” He spoke. Turning sound and surveying her with friendly passionate eyes. Those marbled sapphire and silver orbs that even the most cold hearted woman would be immune too.

She scoffed lightly.

“Oh but sir, you are too kind…”

“Oh but madam, spare me the praise until we each atleast have half a bottle of this wine down our gullets…”

He smiled, looking at the bottle of 2007 red, and urging one hand on her back to steer her through to his kitchen. Libby still couldn’t grasp how little this place had changed since she had seen it last. It looked untouched, still the same Alfred Hitchcock movie poster hanging above the crackling fireplace, with the green velvet armchair by the window, of which a very familiar furry shape was happily snoozing away on, but who's tail started to wag as Libby passed the arch way from the lounge through to the spacious kitchen. Before she knew it, aforesaid fury shape leapt off the chair and bound over to her with a lolloping tongue and big paws going askew with excitement to see the long forgotten yet familiar stranger in their home.

Libby crouched and happily gave the dog some much needed attention by way of a fuss on his head and a fondle and stroke of his large velveteen ears.

“Hey Finley, Hey buddy…”

Libby cooed in her dogs and babies only voice as Fin snuffled around her knees and looked up at her with those big coal loyal black eyes that warmed her heart. Fin’s tail continued to wag. Furiously.

“Hey, You old rascal, getting all my ladies aren’t you?” JJ smiled, breezing past into the kitchen to check how dinner was coming on. Libby got slightly thrilled at the prospect of being ‘his’ lady.

“You leave him be. He can have as many of your ladies as he wants. He’s a cutie…Which is far more than can be said for his owner…” Libby insisted jokingly in ‘the dog/babies voice’

“Don’t let all that flattery go to his ego... He’ll become a spoilt dog.” JJ joked.

Libby shook her head looking at Fin who was still excited to see her.

“Hey, you hungry Lucky?”

He asked her, calling through, as Libby walked she heard the familiar tip-tap of Finley’s claws on the wooden floors following behind the sound of her clacking heels as she walked. Reaching down she rubbed his head as she moved through to join JJ in the room where the stunning smell of dinner was emanating from.

“Starved..” Libby insisted. Smiling as she got to him to see he was right back in his element. Tea towel slung over one shoulder, face flushed from the steam of the pan that was bubbling away, and something truly great was giving off a heavenly scent from his oven.

“I feel bad intruding on your night in alone for one. You sure you can spare some to go around?” Libby asked, leaning over him to see what was cooking in the pot. A delicious blend of beans and sauces by the looks of things.

“Please, you and me both have the same curse of our eyes being bigger than our stomach’s. I’m sure I can manage plating you up some Boston bean casserole and roast duck.” He offered, lifting his eyebrow, chucking the towel back over his shoulder again after dabbing at an absent stain on the oven, as she smiled at the mouth wateringly lovely sounding food ( _and man_ ) before her.

“As long as it’s just you and Fin tonight. I’m sure my allegiances can be easily swayed into joining you.” She insisted.

“Well. Fin’s already wolfed down his tin of pedigree chum and, the greedy bastard would not go halfsies with you on that. Believe me…” He winked.

Libby laughed. Easing herself onto a barstool at the breakfast table so she could slide her shoes off. After walking nearly all night for a solid half and hour, they were starting to take their painful toll on her feet. She moaned in ecstasy as she unbuckled and wedged the shoe off her foot.

Unbeknownst to her, at the little soft moan sound she made, JJ turned his head and examined up the mile long stretch of her pale toned leg that protruded into his line of vision. He swallowed as he realised he suddenly felt quite hot and it had _nothing_ to do with the oven.

She made the same sound again as she worked off the other shoe, (forcing JJ into biting his lip lest he really make good on that promise of ushering her into his bedroom)

“Wine?” JJ asked, distracting his and her thoughts as he uncorked the bottle and fetched two glasses from across the kitchen to pour it. Giving them both a generous amount of liquid in each glass. Which they both drank in marginal silence as they listened to the sound of dinner boiling and the slightly cheesy sound of careless whisper bellowing on in the background.

“George Michael?” Libby laughed.

JJ raised a brow as he fiddled with the stem of his wine glass.

“A classic and you know it..” He delegated.

Libby smiled as she sipped on her wine. Shaking her head at him.

Before she knew it, JJ was checking the contents of the oven and plating up dinner for them both. They ate it by the fire in the lounge with the lights off and a couple of candles lit while sexy saxophone jazz played in the background. The fie crackled and spat next to them as they ate and laughed in pleasant chatter and company. Both needing a bit of affection. Finley was busy snoring away happily on his basket in the kitchen in the warm utility room. Leaving the two completely alone.

“So. I’ve had three –“ Libby began as JJ worked on pouring her more wine. She was sat on her knees, kneeling down next to him as he was slouched happily across a cushion with one leg stretched out and another bent, firelight and candlelight dancing in battle across his amber tinged skin, flickering away so the shadows of his face changed by the second, and his smile was one she wanted to kiss from his lips.

She cleared her throat.

“Three – now nearly going on four glasses of wine, and I think I can now safely work up the courage to ask when did Neeve move her stuff out?” Libby asked in a hushed respectful voice. She had seen the cardboard boxes littering his hallway earlier, she was just too polite and sober to say anything about it. But the wine had loosened her tongue considerably

JJ sighed with a smile, and Libby nearly regretted bringing it up. But, she rather wanted to know…

“Officially? Four weeks ago. But she had been staying on and off with her sister for a few weeks beforehand, right up to about the time I saw you at the gallery that night. That was the night she ended it. She’s still got a few bits and pieces to pick up. But, she’s given back her key, so I have to drop it off to her at some point.” He said. Libby could tell every word hurt him a little.

JJ and Neeve were constantly an on/off couple for as long as Libby had known them. – she didn’t want to be a bitch, but if she had to hazard a guess it was mostly that Neeve felt that JJ wasn’t bothered, yet, that was just how he was. Almost too laid back. And it had cost him one broken heart. She knew him better than herself, he wouldn’t willingly make himself miserable for love. How could he be to blame? They were both blameless victims of their own circumstance.

“I saw Benedict tonight..” She confessed quietly.

JJ frowned mildly, letting out a slight ‘tsk’ sound, as she was sat slightly in front of him, looking to the side and watching the orange flames burn away in the hearth, JJ’s hand reached forwards and scooped her silkily red hair back over her shoulder, exposing her neck. The contact made Libby’s spine wrack with _oh-so_ pleasurable shivers. She turned to meet his eyes as a springing curl of red fell down in front of her eyes, making her look irresistible to him. Especially with the lustful assistance of candlelight.

“Lucky.. “ He whispered, cooing softly with a concerned frown as he cradled his large glass of wine to his chest. Looking at her with apprehension.

“Well. When I say saw. I mean, had a row, in public in the supermarket by the crisps and frozen food section. Whereby we snarled some nasty words at each other, before I slapped him and left…” Libby said glumly.

JJ stayed silent. Partially because he didn’t really know what to say in response to that.

“He deserved that slap for the abominable way he’s treating you…” Was the only words he could muster.

Libby bit her lip. _Typical of Lucky_ , he thought, _she could never justify harming anyone once she thought about it._

She shook her head.

“I hate the way we are. All because of one stupid woman and her hurtful lies. And he’s listening to her, that somehow makes it worse. But, I guess I just need to move on. He’s got her now. And… I’ve. Got to move on. I have to let him go, for his sake and my own.”

JJ nodded, looking off to the side into the flames.

“That’s very brave of you.” JJ said honestly.

“That’s one of the things I love about you, Libby.” He spoke very honestly and quietly. Libby swore she heard and felt her heart grind to a stop.

Her mouth gaped. But JJ wasn’t stopping there.

“The night I saw you at the gallery again, I. I don’t know if it’s possible to fall in love with someone all over again. But I did. And seeing how hurt you were, my god I couldn’t stand it. Knowing what it was doing to you, and how much pain it put you through. I couldn’t help myself. I did fall hard and fast for you. And I’ve been trying – not very well – to keep my mind of you for all these weeks, and I couldn’t. The only reason I stayed away was because I didn’t want to tread on any toes. So, you can see now why I really do _not mind **at all**_ that you were knocking on my door tonight… in fact, please… just , stay. With me.” He spoke honestly.

Libby’s heart felt too big for her chest.

JJ leaned forwards and cupped her neck with the whole of his hand. He had got her panting already.

He pretty full lips gaped, as his eyes slid up to hers to make contact. They were like black diamonds.

“Besides…” He smiled lustfully.

“We’ve had three failed attempts at a shag now.. I think I can safely say I’m not letting you leave this house, Lucky, til you are spent, purring my name, and dripping wet…”

He gushed softly and hotly leaning in with that sexy smile as he breath hitched in her throat.

“Third times a charm..”

Libby whispered against his lips as he leaned in and kissed her savagely. Libby nearly whimpered onto his tongue, but since she knew that this night was sure to be a long and restless one, she effortlessly melted into him, allowing him to slide his hand down the back of her dress, brushing the zipper teasingly as if to say ‘I’ll be back for you later’

Libby felt her need swell as his large smooth hand encased her ass in his huge grip and tugged her close, twisting her round so she put her hands into his silky hair and let her lips twist wildly against his own, as the kiss grew hotter, so did their need. Libby broke away from his addictive lips for air, but feeling incredibly turned on as he gathered her hair to one side, leaning in to softly and gently place his lips across her throat, Libby had to bite her lips as she felt nothing but pure pleasure wrack through her body at the sensation of his soft lips on her skin. Whilst his devious hands worked on the back of her dress, making good on the promise of a damn good shag, slowly unzipping her from the confines of her little black dress that he couldn’t stand having in his way as a barrier between him and her naked skin that he had wanted a glimpse and taste of for so many weeks now.

She let out a shaky breath from tender vocal chords that were far too absorbed in being sexed up by this wonderful man. They had moved so she was straddling him now, and whilst he had the back of her dress open and falling away, he slid her shoulder straps down too, kissing every spare centimetre of skin he exposed as he went.

“I love your neck.”

He smiled against mentioned area as he sucked and lapped at it with his lips until her toes curled so hard her legs ached from them staying that way.

Libby could do naught but swallow and moan at him. That voice, purring lustful sentences at her. it was all she could do not to melt into a mushy puddle of a woman. But she couldn’t ignore the lust pooling at her gut now. She wanted him as badly as he wanted her, and it was wonderful.

“Bedroom?…” She asked in a barely audible squeak.

JJ smiled at her all too turned on tone.

“Oh how I’ve dreamed of having you in my sheets again with me, Lucky.”

He drawled. His hands, the naughty things that they were, slid down her thighs and crept naughtily into her underwear, very able to feel the gathering wetness that he had made pool there with his actions and even more so with his words.

She nearly bucked up and off his lap at the contact, her mouth a gaped ‘O’ of soundless pleasure.

“looks like I won’t need to worry about getting you all nice and wet. And here I was so looking forward to spreading those lovely legs and creamy white thighs wide apart and licking you up and down, all across your clit til you beg and plead with me to stop..I remember how badly you love that” He said slowly.

Libby thought in all seriousness that she might combust.

“Jay..” She gasped.

“I remember how hard it makes you cum when I do that… softly twirl your clit round and round with the tip of my tongue…”

Libby’s thighs were clenching so hard, she nearly whimpered.

“Tease..” She gasped.

“Patience darling…”

He cooed softly into her left ear as he nibbled on it, smelling her coconut scented hair curling into his face as he inhaled her, gently smoothing his hand down the back of her dress to grab at her ass. Libby now remembered his penchant for sexing her up good and slow, building up the foreplay to an almost unbearable point.

“Now, Let’s get this sexy ass into my bed shall we?” He asked. Slapping her bum with the palm of his hand.

God damn the man, he knew exactly how to turn her on.

Libby’s response was to kiss him so hard on the lips. Tugging his collar with her hand, pulling his smirking face forwards and sealing her lips tight over his.

Before they can fathom it, he hoisted her up and into his arms as she yelped unexpectedly into his mouth, together, a tangled osmosis of turned on limbs, with Libby’s dress halfway down her body, zipper undone, they lazily stumble upstairs and into JJ’s dark bedroom. Libby managed to somehow – she wasn’t sure how, but somewhere near his doorway, she managed to furiously tear open his shirt and slide it down his arms and off him. Her fumbling hands also managed to cooperate enough to get his belt buckle undone and off. As it slapped to the carpeted floor, she is yanked up off the floor again, and her knees bracketing either side of his trim hips. Her legs folded down as he ripped her dress of her like it was offensive to him. It littered the carpet like the rest of their clothes, leaving Libby in her black laced pants that she wholeheartedly didn’t intend on him seeing tonight. But nonetheless, when she is slowly lowered onto the bed, he looked at them appreciatively for all of three seconds, before tearing them off and down her legs, deciding his carpet was a far better candidate for sporting the small things, leaving her in naught but nude stockings that are sensationally erotic and sexy to him. With him on his hands either side of her ribcage, drinking in the sight of her exposed curves with definite sexual hunger, those breasts he had sorely missed, and had to suffice making up for the loss by leaning forwards and capturing one of her nipples in his mouth, sliding and sucking his tongue around the tip until she bucks up into him, dragging one hand down his back so he could feel her nails rake his skin, and the other tug on his follicles so hard as the pleasure was all too much.

JJ licked a wet trail from one to the other, paying it the same gentle homage of love and longing, sucking and lapping so he makes her moan once more. Cheekily, his wandering hands trail down to those pretty wet folds of hers that he adores worshipping with his mouth and tongue. She gasped as one lone smooth finger flicks up on her clit sending a jolt through her body. And my god, was she gushing wet for him already.

“My, you are absolutely drenched for me.”

He teases, flicking his finger upwards seeing her toes curl and her spine arch as her pretty eyes fluttered shut again. Its both been so long for each of them, the pleasure for her is almost unbearable.

But not so much so that when he spreads her legs apart and replaces his fingers with his tongue. Which really suffices to say, drives her crazy. If she wasn’t wet enough before, judging by the way she felt positively soaked now, then JJ really did know how to sex her up. His tongue swirled and dipped in impossible delightful patterns, each movement sending fireworks of pleasure through her bloodstream. She didn’t think she remembered it feeling this sinfully good, almost so much so that its too much to take. But then his tongue dipped deep inside her and she forgets her own name. All she knows is how to writhe and whine his, and try to keep from screaming it so loud, that the neighbours would know it come the morning from the sound of her yelling it all night.

“Tomorrow…” He breathes before he sucks her clit deep into his mouth with his lips so she almost writhes out of his strong grip. Yet her ears listen out for the rest of his sentence.

“I’m going to do this for atleast an hour or two, I’m going to take it so slow, and lick you out until you’re begging me for leniency. But tonight, I’m afraid for both our sakes, I’m going to lick you and fuck you quick enough so we both get what we need. But just you wait til tomorrow, I’m not letting you out of bed until I’m completely 100% finished with having you. Every which way imaginable. I promise you this, Lucky. You won’t know your own name come tomorrow night…For the amount of times I will have made you cum..”

Libby has to bite the inside of her lip, although he is speaking, every time he pauses in-between his filthy promise, he circles his tongue across her folds to make her shiver and move her just that little bit closer to her mind shattering orgasm, which isn’t too far out of reach, especially with the way he licks hot stripes up and down her throbbing pussy.

She’s very close to cumming when he decided to talk enough for both of them.

“I’ve been thinking about this for weeks. Unable to get out of my head how good it would feel when we eventually fucked again… Thinking how hot and wet you’ll feel when I slide you down onto my cock feeling your tight slick heat tighten around me once again. Able to hear first hand the sounds of your moans constantly repeating in my head. Fucking you into wild ecstasy with my cock.”

Libby’s damn sure she wants to cry by this point, and when she cums, she does. An all consuming wave that shatters across her body as her orgasm seizes her, shakes her to her very core as she shivers and writhes and explodes her orgasm onto is tongue, hitting the back of his mouth as he smirks up at her filthily and she feels her own wetness having exploded in a sticky mess across her thighs and lap, yet her head feels decidedly light and carefree, and the blood rushing about in her head with her heartbeat is all she can hear. Christ alive, The sounds she made during her orgasm shoots straight to his cock, which was straining for her, and her alone.

She can barely raise her head to see him stood above her at the end of the bed. Looking like a pure walking sin with ruffled hair and sex eyes as he stares her down with a smile she likes to think of as his ‘fuck-me smirk’ his lips plump and wet as he licks them. Savouring the taste of her on his lips.

He tilts his head at her as she blinks in euphoria at him.

“Did you think I was planning on stopping there?” He asks with a raised brow.

It’s all she could do to watch him wink as he dived for her legs again, dropping them open as the real pleasure started as he buried his head between her thighs once more…

 

~

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	18. Snoops, Snores and Desks...

 

 

 

 

 

“Mnnnmmm.” Libby purred, With JJ’s lips ghosting over her neck. They had been busily preoccupied under JJ’s bedsheets for the past three hours, in which time – to put it plainly – they had given each other a many number of orgasms in every which way they possibly could.

They were now led spooning naked, under a thin cotton undersheet, as the duvet had proven to be to warmer cover for the both of their sweat covered bodies. JJ had not ceased being a cheeky sod, and was still running his hand down from Libby’s ample hip to her soft luscious left thigh. He was laying on his right side behind her, pressed right up close. He kept sighing in grinning content into her neck, nuzzling his nose into her and kissing over her very weak hot spot every now and then. Whilst she giggled happily in content at his actions, and curled her toes at the sensation that bloomed from her neck down her entire spine in shivers of desire and satedness.

“…Yes, I believe, my love, you’ve said that … **_ma-ny_** times tonight….” He purred cheekily. Kissing over her throat, and up the side of her jaw. Sweeping curls of hair out of the way as he went.

Libby twirled her ankle round in a slow spiral to try and allievate the sensation and power his kisses had over her. His hand, sought to be cheekier as it slid closer down to the apex of her thighs.

She inhaled, biting her lip. The beginnings of a moan broke out from between her lips.

“Haven’t you had enough of me this evening, you brute…” She moaned so sexily in that alluring voice of hers, that JJ had to sin his teeth into her neck as a punishment.

JJ chuckled.

“Lucky, I would have you in so many more ways, and so many times over. I would pound you until we both couldn’t take any more, and we both didn’t know where you started and I began…” He snarled lustfully into her ear.

Libby’s toes curled. Again. Her stomach flipping at his blasé ease of dirty talk.

“You. Are. A very, sexy and evil man…” She moaned.

He kissed her neck in a kiss that could’ve meant so much, _much_ more.

One thing Libby dearly loved about JJ was the simple fact that he didn’t mess about with things. He wore his heart on his sleeve, and that either meant he was so trusting that he kept it there as a testement to that fact, or, he was just too preoccupied to remove it.

Libby wasn’t sure when she had last felt such bliss. It was shocking to think that it may have been almost two months since she felt such happiness in the company of a man. But yet it was, and that’s what was so tragic about the whole thing…

And what’s more, even mid-shagging, JJ knew that too. She could’ve sworn her heart imploded when he was just about to slide deep inside her and hammer the first mind numbing orgasm home, she found his mouth up by her neck, kissing her ear as he eased himself in, whispering softly all the while.

“Libby. You deserve to be loved…”

She was too wholly wrapped up in being sexed up to respond.

As she was busy woolgathering, JJ contented himself by stroking a lone finger down the dips and curves of her spine. Over that pale skin that was as soft as butter to the touch. Ben was mad, he had to be, he would have to be an absolute frothing at the mouth, straitjacketed lunatic to find faults and have illicited anger from this woman. Because even being near Libby – let alone having shagged her – there was a gracefrul air about her that anyone adored. She was funny, kind, whitty, honest (In a humble way) sexy, funny, flirty, hardworking, giving and just, almost every otherconcievable good thing rolled into one DNA pattern, housed under killer curves, a hot ass and a smile to die for.

“Do you think we should attempt at getting some rest now?” Libby asked through a mumble as her eyes slid shut. Nearly halfway to being asleep already.

JJ watched her sleeping profile with tender care and love.

He leaned down and placed one, singular kiss to the corner of her mouth. Which twisted into a sleepy smile.

“You’re a treasure. Libby Turner. Never let anyone say you aren’t”

And on that note, the spooning continued, bare hands placed precariously on naked and cooling skin. As JJ shut his eyes and drifted off too.

 

 

~

 

 

She doesn’t really remember at what point it was that she woke up. But as she recalled JJ being a somewhat very heavy sleeper, heavier than her. And she was damn sure she could sleep through a hurricane if one ever elected to hit London. Waking up to the bright October morning in his townhouse, was like living in a White Company catalogue. Everything was airy and light, the view was amazing, cold morning in London shrouded by nearly naked trees with treacle coloured leaves dropping off them, and the sun shining brilliantly through the window, warming her toes as a square hit the bed, and struck a soft gold rectangle onto his pristine bedroom carpet.

Wanting a bit of solitude to get the first cup of tea of the day down her, Libby crep silently out of bed. Trying not to look at the flawlessly godlike man behind her (of whom she was sure to jump if she did) she sat up and searched around, finding, locating and shrugging on his worn blue oxford that she tore off him last night, teaming that with her scantily small blue lace underpants, she sauntered quietly downstairs.

It was amazing, he had remarked the night before, how little the house had changed. Because everything was still where she remembered it to be. He still had three miscellaneous painted pictures from new york leading up the staircase to the bedroom. In their rampant lust filled frenzy last night, she had been too focused on kissing the man – and where kissing would eventually lead - to notice. She loved his hallway floor too, she had been the one to suggest it. But it was pannelled wood painted with the old black and white square Victorian tiles, over the years it had worn slightly and faded, but it still looked chic and cool. She passed her grinning reflection in the hallway mirror, where the sight of sex/sleep mussed hair and the tell-tale yet far off glint of a satisfactory shag gleamed in her blue eyes, made her realise that all a girl needed in her low days was a man like JJ and a damn good shag to be a confidence booster. She wound her merry way through to the kitchen, seeing Finley look up from the position on his basket, tail wagging, as ever pleased to see her. She smiled and silently fussed him, treating him to his breakfast – even the dog food was still in the same place where it used to be, typical JJ – and letting him outside, where he bounded after a squirrel, barking happily as he lolloped around on the lawn in the early morning sunshine. Libby smiled as she padded to the kettle and clicked it on. Whilst she waited for the much needed, morning brew. She found herself with her arms folded across her chest as she wandered around, just idly letting her feet take her about the house. She glanced at the familiar paintings on the wall, the one remaining picture of Neeve and JJ together that he had. She crossed into the lounge, smiling at the embers of ash, where the roaring fire last night had been, and the empty bottle of wine with stained glasses stood on the stone half. She smiled wholeheartedly at that sight…

She then found her feet were taking her in an altogether different direction, through the double doors of which were lined with bookshelves, she crossed into his study, seeing his neatly organised desk and computer, surrounded by thick stacks of scripts, whom were reaching out desperately for him to add another character to his repertoire of acting. She smiled upon seeing the amount of notations he had scribbled into the margins messily in his staple elegant scrawled hand, she also loved the fact that his study was nearly floor to ceiling, wall to wall bookshelves. As was hers – she knew they were so much alike in so many respects…

She padded round his desk, letting the sunbeams that filtered in through the window caress her bare legs so lovingly, making her skin tingle and ache for the warmth it provided. She ran her fingers along the white wooden shelf, smiling at the titles that greeted her. she got so lost in this fact, that’s even the kettle in the kitchen had clicked off having long since boiled. She was too lost to care. As she scanned along, she also found something which came as a slight surprise to her, it was a photograph. But unlike the rest of the ones that adorned JJ and Neeves house, it was one of _Libby_ and JJ. Back when they were happy, crazily in raptured, anarchic kids. It was about three months into their relationship, at some premiere, but it was the after party. She was leaning on the linen covered tabletop, one elbow under her chin as she smiled nicely off to her left, at the nicely tuxedoed man next to her, of which JJ was smiling a smoulderingly sexy smile at her. Candlelight perfectly complimenting the perfect couple. If she remembered correctly it was for the Bridge Group Actor’s Guild Benefit, she had worn a black dress with two huge slits up the side, and a cascading back that left hers bare. And that night, JJ didn’t let her get out from underneath him for a good three or four hours. She tingled fondly at the memory.

“Found anything embarassing yet? On your early morning snoop around my study?” Came a honeyed and sexy drawl from the doorway.

Libby smiled and turned to face a topless JJ, clad only in jeans so he looked worthy of a billboard in times square with the words ‘Calvin Klein Jeans’ plastered below him.

“Just the usual. You know, an array of sex toys, compromising photographs with you in them, drugs and Justin Bieber paraphernalia, nothing out of the ordinary..” She joked.

He nodded seriously, crossing into the room and kissing her to shut her up. She moaned as his hand came up to capture the side of her neck, her hands hung loosely at her sides due to the sheer power that his kiss had over her, she suddenly found her knees were rapidly loosing the will to hold her up. But that soon ceased to be the matter, as she was scooped up into his body, pressed close to his warm, toned torso that smelt like sex and sleepy bedsheets.

She moaned again at that.. the mere scent of him enough to get her knickers moist… _again_. To him, it is a sound that practically resonates straight to his cock, causing him to get hard already. Within seconds she finds her bum planted firmly on the flat surface of his desk as his arms swept the surface clean off to place her there. Scripts, books, photos, pen pots, now all of which was relocated to the floor in a huge crash as JJ leaned back and smiled sexily at her, his hands on her thick hips that he adored as her body shuddered in longing, her breath gone, lips raw and red, and she could already feel her nipples twisting into stiff peaks that craved hs attention. His eyes caught sight of this fact, his shirt plainly making it obvious as the two points became very visible through the thin cotton.

He moaned appreciatively at the sight of her like this…

“ _Hmmm,_ oops.” He growled looking at the ruins of his desk all over the floor.

His hands then slid slowly from the outside of her knees to the very warm insides of her creamy thighs. Whilst his eyes met hers and lightning struck her spine, shooting more arousal to pool at the apex of her thighs.

Even the look on his face was enough to make her cum, screaming.

“I have to say…” JJ whispered against her neck.

“I didn’t _intend_ on turning you on…”

He mouthed against her thrumming pulse as she moaned and wrapped her long leg around his hips to urge him closer. One hand tangling into his hair as he sucked on the skin under her jaw until she was about ready to scream.

“Liar.” She moaned between breathy sounds of appreciation.

JJ then implemented a mean little trick, whereby he pushed their groins closer together, so the hard seam of his denim jean – and all that was contained but straining to be free underneath it – brushed momentarily against her clit, making her thighs shake against him as a jolt of pleasure shot through her.

“Jay,OH _please._ No more teasing, _oh, fuck me_ like you _mean_ it…”

She whimpered, and at this point, it wasn’t past her to beg, she decided.

JJ didn’t waste a second, He tugged his shirt open til the sides ripped away from her and buttons went flying, scattering across the carpet in every direction. What she feels next is enough to make her nearly yell out, as his mouth immediately latches onto her breast, his tongue a smooth, wet velvet lash against her sensitive swollen flesh, its enough to cause her to throw her head back and moan his name loud enough for the neighbours – three streets away – to hear. Her toes screwed tight against his thigh as a result.

Before she can entirely ruin her knickers, however, with the sheer force of arousal that was making the blue lace sopping wet, his clever _clever_ fingers manage to cooperate in whipping off her knickers so fast, before she could moan at his speed, he was already chucking them over his shoulder. Expertly, as he did, he managed to avoid brushing her throbbing clit to make her even more excited, so that when he did quickly tug his fly down and enter her swiftly in one smooth stroke, the friction of his pubic bone hitting her, is so much so, that she curls into him with a loud and satisfied cry slash scream that leaves her wondering if she hadn’t just cum already, and only on the first thrust.

All that Libby knew now. Was that JJ was wicked. And _he certainly_ knew how to use his cock…

But she found that out last night too. All three times they engaged in said act under the sheets.

Her moans were stifled against his shoulder as her other hand gripped his hair, and the other made new indentations on the scratches she put there last night. Her dewy breath kept hitting his shoulder as her gasps of pleasure grew louder and fiercer, even more when he reached down and gently swiped his thumb evenly across her clit so she bucked like a bronco into him as they were both getting nearer and nearer. All the while, It doesn’t improve upon her situation that he had a flithy tongue too…

“Shout, scream, _scream_ my name when you cum for me…”

“Oh, god. Libs. You’re the best shag I’ve ever had. Hands down.”

“So hot and tight, my god you were made for me. I was made to fuck you like this.”

Between his words, and his thumb, it isn’t long until they both feel the familiar coil inside them tighten and release, and when it does, Libby wails and keens against his bucking hips whilst her rams hers back and forwards, as ecstasy, pure, hot and overpowering, washes over her until she’s no longer aware she is still firmly rooted on earth, and screaming softly into JJ’s neck as he emptied himself deep inside her, leaking out across her thighs in one of, what he would have to categorise as one of the best orgasms he’s ever had in his life. His vision dancing with stars, knee’s weak, and still rock hard inside her. Libby, still letting out the occasional squeak of a moan that gives away how utterly spent she is. JJ leans in to place wet kisses up her neck until her spine shivers in pleasure again.

“Cup of tea. Cheese, ham and tomato omelette, and then we are doing _that, again_.” He demands.

Libby has to try so hard not to let her eyes flutter back into her head, before sliding off the desk and pouring onto the floor in a mushy puddle of a woman.

 _Oh yes_. She thinks. _I knocked on the absolute right door yesterday…_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	19. Rain, Mornings and Lover's...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is tiny, but its cute! I promise! 
> 
> \- Author  
> x

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Following morning, proceeding the day after JJ and Libby had their rampant sex session on his desk, and a rather uncheery and pouring morning in London. It seemed the drying flush of autumn had given way to dousing the dry city with a raging rainstorm, big fat heavy raindrops fell in tubby clusters of freezing droplets all across London. Libby had been coerced – but partially willingly on her behalf – into staying with JJ for one more day. Of which they wandered round the house in cosy clothes, cuddling to keep warm, even going for a stroll out to a local one of a kind bookshop, they poured through musty books before rushing home to have passionate sex again, on most of the flat surfaces around JJ’s house. They couldn’t get enough of each other. But, this morning, despite the fact that Libby had not _at all_ wanted to clamber out from between his warm bedsheets, but she had to go home, partially to use shower products that weren’t his – and to actually utilise a shower rather than having sex in it with JJ - and also, so she didn’t have to wear a ripped black dress, coat and heels that she arrived at his in two days ago.

JJ had begrudgingly let her go, dragging his feet as he walked her through the door. As did Finley. The furry lovable amber coloured lab had pattered over to the door along with his master, and looked at Libby dolefully with puppy eyes. As did JJ. Libby couldn’t decide whose pair forlorn eyes were worse…

JJ thoughfully held out a large blue umbrella before she nearly stumbled out into the rain storm.

Libby smiled and took it from his hand, thanking him and stepping out into the cold and the rain. JJ watched her, even the way she moved was enchanting.

He shuffled his hands in his pockets, leaning sexily against the doorframe as he smiled across at her. Barefoot, in jeans and a simple white t-shirt that brought out the stark brilliance in his smile and his gleaming sexy eyes was almost enough to make Libby reconsider. Damn the tug of lust that dragged at her groin, and hw dare he look so appealing when she was trying to tear herself away.

She moaned, leaning forwards and placing a lippy kiss on his mouth, which curved into one of his brilliant smiles that she hated to miss.

She shook her head in disbelief.

“You’re far too sexy for me, Mr Fields…”

She moaned, feeling the rain tipping off the back of the large umbrella as the heavy spattering sound rang in both their ears.

“Hypocrite.” He teased, sliding one hand inside her warm cahsmere coat to naughtily cup her bottom.

“I have to go.”

“But you could stay…” He whined, picking a straying red hair back behind her ear.

“Damn clothes being so far away…” She groaned.

“You know I don’t prefer you clothed…” JJ purred.

Libby cupped her hand round the back of his head, stroking his silky hair.

“We’re acting as if we’ll never see each other again…” Libby pointed out.

“Won’t we?” JJ asked, fearing he was going to be kept at arms length again.

“I don’t know how it works in your world, but I would like to see my boyfriend for close consecutive periods of time in the coming months…”

JJ eyes fixed on hers as his smile curved up. He looked like drowning man who had seen land.

Libby bit her lip, looking shy but raptured. The silver beads of rain battering off the back of the sapphire blue umbrella, and all he could see of her was that full pink smile with her kissable lips, pale snow white complexion, red hair that he adored, maddening blue eyes that he wanted to swim in.

“Want me?” Libby asked with trepadition.

JJ’s answer was to tear the umbrella out of her hand, and smothering her yelps of protest at the chilling rain soaking her head, and licking down her collar, by cupping her head in his hands and kissing her like he was never going to again. Finley was barking and jumping at them both, tugging on JJ’s creased jeans pocket. As JJ wrapped his arms around his girlfriend and kissed her as if tomorrow would never come.

 

London may have been shrouded in rain, But on one little small spot in Harwood Road, West London, it was perfectly sunny from where two people stood…

 

 

 

~ THE END ~

(for the foreseeable time being....)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 P.S. A Libby & JJ spin off is coming your way very shortly darlings...


End file.
